Guard Your Heart
By: Ridley C. James
A/N: Many thanks to those who reviewed and cheered me on after the last chapter. As always your words are great inspiration. This chapter was definitely a joint collaboration with my lovely beta, Mary. She added so much to this piece, and talked me from some ledges, despite being on vacation. Shout out to Kelcor as I might not have even written Jack's POV if not for her insistent prompting! Also Poxelda's Nurse Sally is mentioned here. This chapter is dedicated to all the soldiers- men, women and dogs who fight for freedom. Here, in the US we will be celebrating tomorrow because of their courageous efforts, but it's my hope that we might recognize their sacrifice and ongoing struggles on a more daily basis. It's one of the reasons I frequently mention Jack and Mac's time in the Army. I hope in a small, tiny way that it might remind us that soldiers on all fronts have faces, families and people who love them. Enjoy!
RCJ
Jack was barely quick enough.
Mac had just spoken his name when Nobel's poison showed itself once more. Like the sniper's bullet that had started this whole damn mess, Jack didn't see it coming. Once again he was pathetically ham-fisted in doing a damn thing to prevent it from happening.
Jack practically sprang from the examination table, catching Mac on the way down as the kid collapsed. He tried to keep Mac from hitting the floor, but his best friend was dead weight. Jack would have liked to have blamed the mild concussion the doctor told him he had, maybe blood loss from his earlier knife wound for his failure to see what was about to happen, the ambush that was just out of sight. But as his best friend cried out in pain, eyes squeezed shut tight against the onslaught, Jack felt the weight of guilt crash upon him as rock-solid and unforgiving as the bunker's overhead lights had been.
"Mac!" Jack gripped his partner's shoulders, his heart galloping against his chest, stomach twisting painfully as heat registered through Mac's thin shirt sleeves. Mac's strangled cry, the kind of mewling Jack had once heard from a wounded deer, seemed to set every one of his nerve endings on edge. His immediate response wasn't unlike one of the moments when he found his unit under fire in the desert. Every one of his senses narrowed, sharpened and enhanced far past normal. Endorphins flowed, demanding he run or fight. Jack's first choice was always to fight. Only this time there wasn't an enemy he could see or wage war against.
He tried to do what he would have done if they had been out in the open and were suddenly under attack by unseen forces. Jack's instinct was to protect Mac, to defend him. Mac had his hands braced at either side of his head and writhed wildly in the older agent's hold making the task damn near impossible. Jack's knees struck the floor and he didn't take as much of Mac's weight as he hoped. The sudden jar set off a chain reaction in Jack's own body, sending a spike of pain through his wounded side, straight up to his aching skull. He was quick to push the pain aside, but not fast enough because Mac managed to scramble out of his grasp.
The kid was belly-crawling across the floor towards the door that was past the curtained off area of the examination room, his own instincts obviously telling him to find an escape. It wrenched Jack's heart, the knot in his stomach tightening. For a moment Jack had a flash of Mac working his way across the land mine ridden sand with intense concentration and complete confidence. The sudden door slamming open and curtain sliding back snapped Jack into the present, had him automatically reaching for the gun at his side. He glared at Bozer, dropping his hand as he berated himself for letting panic get the best of him. Now was not the time to lose it. Jack shook his head, taking a deep breath to settle his racing reflections back in the here and now.
Mac screamed this time, punctuating Jack's thoughts. A very human howl once more had images from the battle field springing unwanted, and unmercifully to Jack's mind. There were flashes of boys broken and dying in agony from horrific injuries. But not his boy. Jack had made certain of that. He'd done all he could to ensure Mac wasn't the one calling out for his mother or God. Yet despite his best efforts, here they were. Mac screaming for Jack. Begging him to help him.
"Get a damn doctor!" Jack barked, barely glancing at a gawking Bozer. "Now, Bozer. Go!"
"Come on, Kiddo." Jack took a breath, latched onto Mac, scooping him off the floor in a move fueled by pure adrenaline. The faint pull on his butterfly bandages barely registered. He carefully placed his partner on the examination table, talking to the kid, hoping to break through Mac's agony. "Just breathe, Mac." Jack fought to ignore Mac's too fast wheezing. Not sure if the kid was hyperventilating from the pain or if this was one if the poison's effects Dr. Kunha had spoken of.
Jack placed his hands over his partner's, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. "You're okay, bud." He reassured. "Can you hear me, Mac?" There was a slight trickle of blood beneath Mac's nose and Jack tried not to let his thoughts run wild with ideas of brain trauma and hemorrhaging. His eyes briefly went to the door, than back to his partner, his hand squeezing Mac's. "Hey, I'm right here."
Jack would have liked to think his voice had some kind of power, that maybe his presence had fought back the tide, as sure as he'd time after time driven back Taliban forces, but he was acutely aware that it was more than likely some kind of sick cycle of the toxin when Mac suddenly shuddered and tension visibly fled from his rigid body.
"Mac?" Jack prayed for his best friend to open his eyes. He used his thumb to wipe at the blood which mocked his failure to protect Mac, managing only to smear it across the younger man's pale face in the process. "Come on, kiddo. Talk to me." Jack wasn't above pleading at this point.
"Don't go." Mac rasped out hoarsely. He blinked slowly, finally opening his fever-bright eyes. He looked as dazed and hurt as someone who had just been unexpectedly pounded by the force of an exploding RPG and didn't quite understand what had happened, but Jack couldn't keep the relieved grin from his face.
"Damn, bud. Way to give me a heart attack." Jack ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging.
Mac blinked again, seeming to struggle with focusing on his surroundings. Jack wasn't even sure his partner was consciously aware. His breathing was still way too quick. One of his hands moved from his head to grab hold of Jack's shirt, twisting it in a surprisingly strong hold. "Please don't leave." The words were slurred but Jack could easily make out the desperation and panic.
"Hey now." Jack cringed at how young his partner sounded. Hated that he had no doubt added to that raw fear of being abandoned that was mixed with the stark pain in the kid's wide eyes. "I'm right here, bud. I'm not going anywhere." Jack covered Mac's hand with one of his own, squeezing as he let the other rest on Mac's sweat covered brow. He held Mac's glassy gaze, willing his partner to understand. "I swear." He emphasized. "I've got you."
Mac watched him for a moment and Jack could see the sliding away even before he felt Mac's fingers loosen their grip on his shirt. "Mac! Stay with me, damn it." Jack patted the kid's cheek, panic rushing in once more. "Mac!"
"Jack!" Bozer was back and invading more of Jack's personal space than he would have liked. Though if the shuffle of hurried feet was any indication he'd brought help, and for that alone Jack could live with the hovering.
"Mac." Jack didn't look up, still concentrating on his partner as he pressed his fingers to Mac's throat, desperate for confirmation the younger man had only lost consciousness. The erratic, frantic beating didn't do much to reassure him. "Come on, brother."
"Agent Dalton, we need you to move." Dr. Kamaka, who had treated Jack earlier tried to gently maneuver Jack out of the way. "Let us check on your partner." His voice was calm and confident as he ordered one of the nurses to start Mac on oxygen, telling the other to get an IV in. Jack wasn't ready to relinquish control, despite knowing others much more capable of helping Mac were now on the scene.
"Jack." Bozer was even closer, his voice insistent but calm as well. He went so far as to lay a hand on Jack's arm and Jack showed great restraint in not jerking away. "Step back. Let them take care of Mac."
"How long has he been unconscious?" Kamaka asked, his stethoscope pressed to Mac's chest, his face showing nothing as he performed a quick assessment. He and the nurses' movements were well-practiced and concise, a fact Jack tried to focus on instead of the rush at which they were performing their duties, a hurry he was afraid spoke to the gravity of the situation.
"Just now." Jack did as Bozer asked and took a step from the table, sliding a hand over his face. He drew a shaky breath. He could not lose Mac. Not this way. Jack had once told Mac having his death on his conscience would kill him. He should be so lucky. There would be no swift mercy. Mac's dying would methodically dismantle Jack. "He just passed out. Is he okay? What are you going to do?"
"Can you explain what happened?" Kamaka returned without answering Jack's question.
"I don't know!" Jack snapped, his tenuous grasp on patience failing. He reflexively clenched and unclenched his fists. "One minute the kid and I were talking and the next he grabbed his head and nearly face planted."
"Was it another attack like back at the station?" Dr. Kunha asked Jack, surprising him with her close proximity. He hadn't even noticed the woman before she spoke, a sad commentary on his current state. In all fairness, he didn't know Noelani was at the hospital, but was grateful seeing that she at least knew what was going on with Mac.
"I think so." Jack glanced from Noelani to Bozer and then back, fighting hard to get his thoughts and emotions back in order. Losing his shit would not help Mac one damn bit. "Only it was worse. A whole hell of lot worse."
"Dr. Kunha has informed me that Agent MacGyver has been poisoned by a lethal toxin," Kamaka glanced at Jack, his eyes giving the agent a critical once over, perhaps wondering why Jack hadn't mentioned his partner was in dire straits during their brief earlier interlude. "She said there is an ongoing search for the antidote?" He raised his brow.
"Yeah," Jack ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers hit a tender spot from his encounter with the bunker light. He was frustrated by the reminder he was still standing there wasting precious time his partner didn't have. "We're still working on that."
"I told you the episodes would get worse if…" Noelani started to recant her speech she'd given earlier in Chin's office but was interrupted by a scuffle on the table beside them when one of the nurses attempted to start the prescribed IV.
"Jack." Mac's voice was still weak and hoarse, also laced with alarm. It was music to Jack's ears, but a subsequent attempt to evade and escape on Mac's part was not helpful.
"Easy, brother. I'm here." Jack quickly made a spot between Kamaka and the two nurses currently bustling around his partner so Mac could see he hadn't abandoned his post. "It's okay. You're okay. Just calm down so the nice doctor can try and straighten you out." Jack gripped Mac's too warm hand when the kid's anxious gaze sought him out. He forced a grin he didn't feel. "As usual you're causing quite the stir in the medical staff. You never can just come in for a routine check-up, can you?"
"Agent MacGyver, how do you feel?" Kamaka leaned over his patient, pulling a pen light from his jacket. With a groan Mac tried to turn away, his grip tightening on Jack's hand.
"Jack…" Mac made out through his panting. Confused too bright eyes fought to focus. "What…"
"Hang in there, brother." Jack bit his lip to keep from saying anything to Kamaka when the doctor used one hand to forcefully keep Mac's head still while he checked each eye, an act that had Mac gasping in pain and trying to roll towards Jack for shelter.
"Hurts."
"Agent Dalton, we need to get the IV going to combat dehydration." Kamaka's tone and the look he levelled on Jack made the request to restrain Mac clear and as much as Jack hated it, he knew the doctor was right. Berating himself for what he had to do next he used his other hand to maneuver Mac flat on the table once more, pinning his best friend's shoulders.
"No. I need to…" Mac's eyes roamed through the room, flitting on Bozer for a second.
"Come on, kiddo. You know the drill." Jack tried to sound nonchalant, moving his face in Mac's line of sight again. "The sooner you cooperate, the sooner the doctor and nurses put away all their torture devices and leave you be." Jack tried to ignore the look of betrayal that crossed Mac's face when Kamaka picked up a pair of scissors from amid instruments on the silver tray one of the nurses had slid close to the table and expertly slit the front of Mac's shirt, revealing the kid's heaving chest and the bandaged bullet wound from two days before. Jack swallowed the lump that sprung to his throat, another painful reminder that he had failed his priority mission. He smirked at his partner. "Don't be that way. You have a collection of those damn blue shirts. Maybe Steve has another Kamekona original we can get you."
Jack's attempt at playful banter fell flat. A pain-filled frown appeared on Mac's white face when he once again tried to sit up despite the restraining hand. "Jack… I need to tell you..."
"Can I get a temperature reading when you're done there?" The doctor nodded to the nurse who had gotten the requested oxygen going and was attempting to place the mask over Mac's head.
"It's okay, Mac." Jack tried to get ahead of the battle he knew was coming when Mac caught sight of the mask and his struggles increased. Ever since El Noche's little Nitrogen water boarding session Mac had a problem with his face being covered.
"Can I do that?" Jack looked to the nurse, flashing the doctor a hopeful look when the nurse hesitated. "It'll go easier. Trust me."
The nurse waited for Kamaka's nod before she handed off the mask to Jack, who offered Mac what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he slid it over his partner's face. "This will help you catch you breath, brother." After a moment Mac's struggle eased and he accepted the mask, though his grip on Jack's hand tightened painfully.
"When was he shot and when did this fever start, Agent?" Kamaka had removed the bandage from Mac's shoulder and was prodding the recent wound, his eyes glancing up at Jack.
Bozer was the one to answer. "He was shot two days ago, and the fever started yesterday." His gaze briefly met Noelani's. "He's not had anything for the fever except some lemon grass which he took about an hour ago."
"It's 103.1." The nurse who'd handed off the oxygen to Jack was back and had run a thermometer over Mac's forehead, giving the doctor her reading.
The doctor shook his head slightly and Jack wasn't sure if he was disgusted with the number, which did not sound good, or Bozer's explanation of their attempts at homeopathic treatment. "I'll need to see the latest blood panels, Noelani." His voice hardening. "I assume you have requested those?"Kamaka's hands roved expertly over Mac's torso as he spoke.
"Yes, sir." Noelani sounded a bit sheepish, and Jack realized that her unorthodox favor for Five-0 may have put her in a difficult position with the hospital, considering she was the ME and not a practicing physician. Jack imagined she didn't tend to ask for tests on living patients. "I was headed to the lab to pick them up when I ran into Detective Williams and Mr. Bozer."
"Agent MacGyver…" The doctor started only to be cut off by Jack and Bozer's parroting of 'Mac' to correct him. Jack counted it to his credit when Kameka kept his gaze on his patient, his lips turning up slightly as he started again. "Mac, I want to take you down to Radiology now and get some scans so I can see what's going on." Seemingly ignoring the building protest of his patient he added, "Then I'd like to move you to ICU for monitoring and to see if we can do something about this pretty impressive fever."
"No." Mac groaned, his panicked eyes locked on Jack as a gurney bumped through the door and was brought alongside the examination table by two orderlies. He shook his head, reaching up to remove his mask, but Jack carefully caught his hand so not to dislodge the newly inserted IV. "Come on, dude. Let the white coats have some fun. You know how the pictures of your ginormous brain never fail to impress the neuro guys." Jack glanced at the doctor, not feeling the grin on his face. "It lights up like that Christmas tree in Central Park, Doc. You might want to have it framed because you'll never see another one like it. Makes the rest of us with normal brains look like the homely shrub Charlie Brown drug home with all the burned out bulbs."
"I can't stay here. I need to go with you…" Mac gasped in pain, muffled by the mask. His glassy eyes squeezing shut before he forced them open again, his gaze fixing on Jack. "Jack…don't leave," Mac struggled with the words but even through the mask Jack could hear the underlying fear, more driving than the residual pain Mac was still experiencing. Mac had once again latched onto his shirt and Jack's heart had picked up once more, his gut lurching as sure as he'd been punched. He didn't know if the high fever or the pain was to blame for his partner's uncharacteristic vulnerability but either way it drove home Jack's guilt with renewed vigor, revved up his protective instincts tenfold.
"I'm not going anywhere." Jack gently freed himself from Mac's weakening grasp, placing his partner's hand back on the table, giving it one final squeeze. "I'll be waiting in your room as soon as you get back." Jack winked, as Mac was transferred to the gurney and covered with a blanket by one of the nurses. "I'll make sure you get a good view, and the prettiest nurses on the floor."
"We both will." Bozer chimed in, his unsure glance going from Jack to Mac's tensed body on the now moving gurney.
"I'll go with him," Dr. Kunha patted Jack's arm as she brushed by him to follow after the gurney and the other doctor.
"Damn it!" Jack growled as the silver door swung closed behind them. The shaky grasp of his temper he'd maintained for Mac's benefit gave way to white hot anger as soon as his partner was out of his sight. Jack lashed out, swinging his arm in a motion that propelled the metal tray of instruments clattering across the floor. When that wasn't enough he kicked the exam table sending it spinning to collide with the far wall with an impressive bang. Panting slightly he turned looking for something else to unleash his fury upon, but found only Bozer, who he faced off with, fists clenched for battle.
"You can take a swing at me if it will make you feel better," Bozer seemed unreasonably calm in the face of Jack's hurricane of emotions. He even shrugged, once more proving to Jack that Bozer had little if any self-preservation instincts. "Though I doubt it's going to do a damn thing for Mac."
Jack huffed, turning and slamming his fist into the wall instead. It hurt like hell. He'd be damn lucky if he hadn't fractured anything. The pain was somewhat satisfying but Bozer was right in that it didn't do anything to change the fact Mac was dying and it was all Jack's fault.
"Sonofabitch!" Jack roared, gripping his hand to his chest, before turning his back to the wall. He leaned against it, giving it a vicious donkey kick before unlocking his knees and sliding to the floor in a boneless heap. "I am going to kill that fucking bastard Nobel."
"For once, I'm one hundred percent behind an act of violence." Bozer walked slowly towards Jack, stepping over some of the instruments and the kidney shaped bowl strewn in his path. He surprised the older man when he also took a seat on the floor facing Jack, crossing his legs casually as if they were just settling down for a chat around the fire pit on Mac's back deck. "As long as you get the antidote first that is."
A nurse came through the door before Jack could answer, obviously brought in by the sounds of destruction in her examination unit. She took a baffled look around at the mess, mouth agape.
"It's all good," Bozer assured, flashing one of his disarming trademark smiles. "We're just having a bit of a moment, that's all. Hospitals can be stressful, you know."
The nurse tilted her head, mouth opening then closing again. She appeared to gauge whether she wanted to object or if it was worth her energy. Another look at Jack and she merely spun on her heel, shaking her head and left them alone.
"I would do anything to change this." Jack let the back of his head bump against the wall. He hated that his voice was choked, that he could feel the hot prick of tears at the back of his eyes. If there was a way for Jack to somehow trade places with Mac, he'd have done it without hesitation. "You get that right?" Jack closed his eyes for a second, trying to take long slow breaths to get his emotions back in check.
"I believe you would do anything and everything to protect Mac." Bozer nodded, when Jack lifted his head and chanced a glance in his direction. "He told me about you still being in the Army."
"He has every right to hate me for lying to him about that." Jack swiped a hand roughly over his eyes, erasing any evidence of his weakness. "Not to mention this mess with Nobel."
"Mac could never hate you, Jack." Bozer emphasized, his mouth tipping up slightly. "Could Captain America hate Bucky?"
Jack rolled his eyes at the comparison they often joked about. "I can't even blame being brain washed on betraying Mac." He looked away, his gaze distant. Jack couldn't help but to feel every bit the villain.
"You lied to him, but you didn't betray him." Bozer grew serious once more, searching Jack's eyes. "That would mean you hurt him on purpose, and Mac believes that's something you would never do. He trusts you completely, maybe more than he trusts me, hell, probably more than he has ever let himself trust anyone since his dad left. I don't exactly get it, but that's how it is, just the same."
Jack worried a thread on his disaster of a shirt, staying quiet for a moment, letting Bozer's words sink in. They didn't make the feeling he'd failed spectacularly go away, or diminish the heaping of blame, but it felt somewhat better to at least know Bozer got that Jack hadn't intentionally brought any of this to their door.
"I only lied because I knew the stubborn ass would balk at me taking on those missions to get him out of the desert." Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the pounding rhythm of a building headache behind his eyes. When this all was over he would definitely sleep for a week. "He'd have insisted on serving out his time just like he had been doing, but after Helmand I was just afraid…" Jack hesitated, running his hand trough his hair.
"Afraid of what?" Bozer's voice was careful and tentative as if he was unsure of what answer he might get. His fingers had started to absently pull on one of his shoe laces.
Jack sighed, still not looking at Bozer. "After Helmand when Mac's friends were killed and he was really hurt," He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I was afraid he'd be even more reckless with his own welfare, trying to somehow make up for failing to keep them alive, or that he'd feel guilty for surviving when they didn't and push to save even more people, punishing himself in the process. I'd seen it before. Hell, I'd lived it."
"That sounds like a legit concern when it comes to our boy, Mac." Bozer nodded, gazing up at Jack.
"There was also the fact he asked to go home." Jack let his head rest against the wall again, his balled fists resting on his knees. "I felt I had to at least try and give him what he wanted even if he was half out of his mind when he asked me for it." Unwanted memories flashed through Jack's mind. He could practically feel the heat of the desert even deep in Helmand tunnel, hear the shelling. He swallowed thickly, focusing on staying present, the cool tile beneath him, the hum of the air conditioning unit, using the sensations to ground him. He chanced another glance at Bozer. "Even then there wasn't much I wouldn't do for him, even if it meant lying to him when I promised I'd never do that."
"Mac really wanted to come home?" Surprise and concern showed on Bozer's face. That and something Jack couldn't quite discern before it vanished.
"What do you think, Boze?" Jack lifted his head, glaring at the other man. Explaining the hells of war to someone who had no concept was damn near impossible. Jack had stopped trying a long time ago. "Do you think he wanted to be there? Shit, dude. Do you think any of us ever wanted to be in that place?" His knuckles grew white as his fist tightened.
"I think I'm glad you were there, whether you wanted to be or not." Bozer's face was as serious and as earnest as Jack had ever seen it. It deflated Jack's fury, bringing a mix of regret and something akin to shame in its place. "I know that might make me selfish, but if you hadn't been there, I'm not sure Mac would have ever come back, at least not the Mac we know now."
Jack smiled bitterly, letting his head fall back against the wall. "Don't forget I'm currently the reason Mac is suffering, that he may die because of a stupid mistake I made years ago." He unclenched his fist, rubbing slowly over the bruised and broken skin on his knuckles.
"Mac is suffering because of Nobel, Jack." Bozer bumped his red Converse against Jack's scuffed boot, succeeding to catch Jack's eyes once more. "You have to get that."
"I get that Nobel pulled the trigger." What Jack also got, that Bozer couldn't quite grasp was that Jack had failed to protect Mac in the first damn place. In the Army the smallest unit possible was a buddy team. It was basically two men charged with the task of watching out for each other. In the Army or not, Jack would always see Mac as the other half of his team, the person he was responsible for keeping alive. "I also know I could have prevented that if I hadn't been too much of a coward to pull my own damn trigger when I had the chance."
"But you're going to remedy that mistake so it will all be good." Bozer actually grinned as if it were a simple task he was proclaiming.
Jack sensed the other man's peace offering, despite his naïve optimism and his smile was more real this time. If Bozer still believed he could fix this, then who was Jack to wallow in self pity? "What happened to you thinking I was just some big selfish jerk?"
Bozer almost looked sheepish. "I might have jumped the gun on the whole selfish part."
Jack raised his brow, feigning offense. "Just not the jerk part."
"Well, you're still you." Bozer shrugged, looking up over his shoulder, when hurried steps and voices rushed past the door.
"That I am." Jack sighed.
Focusing back on Jack, Bozer hesitated a moment before speaking. "I want to call Riley and let her know what's going on with Mac."
"What? No." Jack shook his head at the whiplash-like segue. He sat up straighter. More of his family in the line of fire was not something he could condone. "Just no. The last thing we need is for her to be in danger, too. Mac wouldn't want that."
"Maybe, but what about what Riley might want?" Bozer stood his ground, he swallowed. "Like the chance to say goodbye to Mac if the worst happens."
"Don't even say that." Jack shook his head again, his fist clenching once more. "Nothing is going to happen to Mac. I thought we just covered that."
Bozer took a slow breath, his fingers had found a small hole on the bottom rim of his shoes, worrying the fabric. "I believe you're going to save Mac, but I also can't help thinking of all those times when Mac was hurt through the years and I had no idea." He fought to make a point. "Not only in Afghanistan, like in Helmand when he almost died, but times since then when he was shot or stabbed or thrown off a building and I thought he was living it up on some extended business trip with you and Nikki having a blast." Bozer pinned Jack with a stare. "How did you feel back at the station when you thought you couldn't be there for him when he was sick?"
"Damn it." Jack growled, hitting the ground with his fist. The fresh pain a welcomed if only momentary distraction. He hated it when Bozer had a valid point. Jack pointed a finger at the younger man. "She doesn't come near this island. Is that understood? No sending Hammond's superfast jet to get her from Canada."
"I'll make sure she understands how you feel." Bozer's mouth twitched triumphantly
"Right, like that has ever done any good."Jack rolled his eyes at Bozer.
"Can I ask you something?" Bozer's eyes met Jack's again, obviously emboldened by his recent triumph.
"Can I really stop you?" Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his temple, sincerely regretting declining the painkillers Dr. Kamaka had offered after he checked him over.
Bozer stared at him for a long moment, seeming to weigh whether he should ask what was on his mind.
"Get it out before you hurt yourself, man." Jack gave a rolling motion with his hands.
Bozer didn't meet Jack's eyes this time, instead focusing on something just past him. "Have you ever thought that living like you and Mac did in Afghanistan in the war for so long is why you two still think all the crazy shit you do is completely normal? That maybe it's why the rest of us are always trying to play catch up and might tend to freak out just a little bit when you two jump out of a crashing plane over the ocean or blow up ten terrorists with some cleaning supplies and a pack of gum?" His gaze briefly brushed over Jack, the mask of calm seriousness and concern wavering, showing the fear behind it. "Or why I might be more than rattled when Mac gets shot in the middle of Los Angeles coming out of our favorite Chinese restaurant by a sniper using some sci-fi biologic bullet who wants to coerce you into some nefarious assassination plot?"
Bozer was watching him now, needing an answer Jack wasn't sure he had. He considered his words, thoughtfully. Simple, pat answers eluded him for the very reason that he tried not to think too much about what the war had done to him, and especially how it might have rewired Mac. No man left battle unscathed or unchanged. In the worst cases they came away broken in ways that couldn't be mended, ways that were sometimes impossible to recognize, far too easy to ignore, until it was too late.
Finally, Jack drew breath and decided to go with some wisdom his grandfather had once shared after Jack's first leave home wasn't what he'd expected. "It's not so easy to slip back into living a normal life, Boze. Not when a man's base-line normal has been so far skewed for so long it no longer registers in the appropriate boundaries with the rest of civilization."
Jack thought about the time he and Mac had spent in Afghanistan, how there was so much death and destruction there that a man couldn't quite comprehend it all. How a man either learned to shove the danger aside and kept going as if the chaos around you was typical, or he was swallowed up by his own fear ."I guess maybe me and Mac feel more comfortable when things are a little out of the ordinary, maybe even bordering on bedlam, than we do when things are in a peaceful state." He flashed the other man a serious glance, wanting to make sure Bozer didn't misinterpret what he was saying, that he might be implying something was wrong with him or especially Mac. "It's who we are. Our normal. But you're right, sometimes we might take for granted that you and the other people we love are more acquainted with the conventional way of doing things and that we scare the hell out of you."
"That actually makes sense." Bozer said considerately.
"Don't' sound so surprised. I actually do have my moments. Just ask Mac." Jack carefully made it to standing, offering the other man a hand up. Bozer gripped Jack's outstretched hand and let him help pull him up, an involuntary groan escaping through Jack's clenched jaw in the process as his abused side registered the strain.
"Are you okay?" Fresh worry registered on Bozer's face and Jack had to take a quick step back to avoid the younger man invading his personal space once more. He'd be lucky if the kid didn't try and give him a full on hug.
"Peachy." Jack straightened, one hand lightly pressed against his side, his face grim with discomfort. "I need to call Hammond, tell him we have to up the timeline for the meet as in first thing in the morning."
"Hammond's still here," Bozer explained. "He went to check on McGarrett who was having his hand stitched up in another room.
"Good. With everything like it is right now, I'm not sure Mac has that much time." Surely there was a space Jack could pull together an impromptu debriefing so they could get their next step in place. "I want you to get a hold of Jerry. Have him reach out to the others. Everyone needs to come to us." Jack didn't want to leave Mac sooner than necessary.
"I'll do it." Bozer glanced at him. "But can I ask you one more thing?"
"As long as it's not deep or metaphorical or makes my head hurt anymore than it already does." Jack narrowed his gaze menacingly. "Then go ahead. Shoot."
Bozer's mouth twitched. "Who the hell is that on your shirt?"
Instead of once more defending his wardrobe, Jack let a very simple, and completely translatable hand gesture stand for his reply.
RCJ
Mac hadn't planned on dozing off. He'd managed to stay awake through the initial scans and tests Dr. Kamaka had ordered through sheer stubbornness and a driving need to stay alert. Once some clarity finally overcame the residual panic that had taken hold of Mac's faculties after the latest reaction to the toxin and he'd made it through the measures without losing it, he'd promised himself he'd be awake, at least long enough to talk to Jack, to set things straight with his partner once and for all and to convince him to get Mac out of there. But the late hour combined with the toll his body had taken had obviously worked against his valiant efforts. Mac awoke to find himself not in radiology but in an empty, dimly lit hospital room.
He blinked blearily, feeling completely disorientated for a moment. When his vision finally cleared he glanced to the IV in his arm, the needle's uncomfortable pinch drawing his primary attention before he took in the numerous machines monitoring his condition. Mac didn't need the increased beeping of the one gauging his heart rate to understand that he was suddenly afraid. The panic adding to his disorientation.
It was hard to admit, considering he tended to face death, disaster and the unknown on a daily basis, but finding himself alone in a mostly dark, unfamiliar space with only the lingering fear from what had transpired before had him feeling unnaturally vulnerable. He shivered, unconsciously drawing the blanket a little higher. His fever probably wasn't helping, nor was the fact his head felt a bit like someone had used it for batting practice.
Mac pushed himself up in the bed, ignoring the wave of nausea, his blurry gaze slowly trying to assess his surroundings. He swallowed hard, his throat raw and hurting. Distantly he could remember that he might have screamed earlier. The most obvious fact, taunting and mocking Mac was that Jack was nowhere to be found. Bozer was missing as well. Mac might have been a little bleary on all that had transpired after the toxin did its latest number on Mac's brain but he was certain Jack had promised him he'd be waiting for him when Mac was finished with the doctor's tests. Jack was not one to break promises.
Worst case scenarios bounded in like unwanted, unruly visitors and Mac felt his heart rate picking up even more speed. He searched for a clock, rubbing his eyes when the numbers were too damn blurry to make out. The shades were drawn on the windows but it appeared to still be dark out, which meant that Mac hadn't been out for very long, or he'd missed an entire day. Mac's internal clock which was usually trustworthy told him it couldn't have been more than an hour at the most, but he worried the drug might have also tampered with his sense of time.
Mac managed to slip the oxygen cannula from his face, clumsily lowering the railing on his bed as he fought through a moment of dizziness and nausea to get his legs over the side. He sat there for a moment, blinking his vision back into focus. Mac frowned at the fact his shoes were gone, and he was now wearing a medical gown and not his jeans. The lack of a wardrobe wouldn't deter him from searching for his partner. Military life had pretty much diminished any modesty Mac might have cultivated as a skinny insecure teen. However he wasn't prepared for the fact his body might not have been as willing and able to cooperate with his need for answers. Mac had no more than set his feet on the floor and attempted to transfer weight to them when the miscalculation became very clear. He tried to stop his fall by reaching for the IV pole near him, but only managed to bring the rolling structure down with him garnering a loud clang.
The racket of the crash was more painful to Mac's sensitive ears than the awkward landing was to his body. For a moment he feared he'd brought another pain-filled episode on himself when a sharp twinge echoed through his head, causing his breath to catch, his eyes to automatically squeeze shut.
"Mac!" Jack's shout didn't help matters. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Mac recoiled slightly at his partner's decibel level although his relief at having the man present forced him to open his eyes, blinking owlishly up at Jack who was now hovering above him.
"Coming to find you." Mac's answer had Jack's face twisting into a grimace. He shook his head as he reached out to carefully help Mac up. "You said you'd be here…" Mac hoped he didn't sound quite as childish as he felt. He wasn't ready for the shift in altitude and his weak knees buckled again as Jack took most of his weight before easing him back onto the bed.
"Your nurse just texted Bozer," Jack explained as he tried to untangle the IV that had gratefully not been pulled free during Mac's attempt at taking matters into his own hands. "They only brought you up here, bud."
"I'm sorry," Mac licked his dry lips. His mouth felt like he'd swallowed sand. "I…" He blinked, feeling drained of what little energy he'd managed now that Jack was here and the panic had temporarily been beaten back.
"It's okay, kid." Jack cut him off, meeting his gaze for the first time. "None of this is on you. Alright? Just try and not give me any more scares today. I don't think my heart can handle it at this point." He ran a hand over his hair, grabbing for the remote for the bed.
"Where were you?" Mac was grateful when Jack raised the bed so he could finally lean back but still remain upright although he didn't' appreciate the oxygen that Jack was insistent on replacing. Jack steered Mac's hand away when he tried to tug at the uncomfortable tubing and Mac let out a defeated sigh. If Mac felt exhausted, Jack looked the part. The bruises on his face were more vivid, highlighting the dark circles beneath his eyes. The slight beard from lack of a shower and shave reminded Mac of the days when they were in Afghanistan, when sometimes the closest thing they came to cleaning up was sharing a pack of baby wipes "I was worried you'd gone and done something stupid."
"Hammond has commandeered the Chief of Staff's cushy office, set up a home base. We were talking about our next move," Jack's eyes moved over the variety of monitors in the room as he explained. Mac shivered, burying deeper under the blanket that was once more placed over him. Frowning his partner pressed his hand against Mac's forehead. "You're still burning up, kid."
"Which is?" For a second Mac considered leaning into Jack's cool touch but instead he slightly moved his head, effectively dislodging his partner's hand. The last thing he needed was to appear in need of comfort, especially if he planned on being a part of the upcoming plan the others were hatching.
"Which is what?" Jack tilted his head, studying Mac with a concerned frown and Mac wondered not for the first time if he really looked as bad as the worry in Jack's eyes suggested.
"Your next move, Jack." Mac caught his partner's wrist, when it was obvious Jack wanted to pace. Wincing slightly when the movement pulled at his bullet wound. "Talk to me."
"Nothing you need to worry about right now." Jack said evasively. He used his free hand to press the call button hanging at the top of his bed. When a nurse responded Jack said, "Leah, Mac's awake if you want to let Dr. Kamaka know."
"You're on a first name basis with the nurses now?" Mac coughed lightly, raising a brow at his partner, fighting off a wince when he tried to shift higher in the bed.
"I told you I'd make sure you got the prettiest ones." Jack flashed him a quick grin though Mac could tell it was more for his benefit than a real one."I'm sorry the room doesn't have a great view but I managed to keep you out of the ICU."
"Thanks for that." Mac blinked, watching Jack as he glanced around the room before settling his gaze back on him. He picked up at his partner's restlessness, the need to do something productive. "I hate all the glass walls."
"I hear you."Jack gave Mac a more thorough study than he had their surroundings, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. "How you doing, brother? Really. Is your head still hurting?"
"Some, sort of like a really bad hangover," Mac confessed, knowing there was no use in trying to put on an act. "But nothing like before. I'm just tired." If he liked it or not, the fever was slowly but surely becoming a problem. He began to feel slightly detached from the situation, and the pull of sleep was incredibly inviting.
"So the tests weren't as bad as you thought?" Jack surprised Mac by reaching up and brushing a few strands of hair out of his face before settling himself on the edge of the bed.
"About like usual," Mac didn't even bother to look offended at the little-brother-like treatment, actually glad that Jack seemed to settle some. His agitation was making Mac itchy, the recent scare obviously wearing on both their resistances. He forced a half smile, opting to take a page out of his partner's typical book. "Not quite as sadistic since Sally wasn't gloating over me."
Jack smirked at Mac's mock shiver at the mention of Phoenix's head nurse in medical. "You know I bet we could get Patty to fly the evil elf over here to be in charge of your care…"
"I would never forgive you." It felt good to have a moment of normalcy and Mac wished not for the first time that this was one of their typical missions, instead of the completely convoluted mess they were facing.
"And here everybody thinks you're the guy who won't hold a grudge."
"There are some sins a man can't get past." Despite the joking tone, Mac recognized the hurt that flashed through his partner's eyes, sensing their temporary reprieve come to an end. He was quick to add, "But when it comes to family, there's always some wiggle room."
"I'm sorry, brother." Jack straightened the thin sheet he'd pulled over Mac, demonstrating his need once more to be doing something, anything constructive. "Really sorry."
"Hey, it's not like Sally is already on the way here." Mac continued to play coy, not sure if his defenses or Jack's were up to the conversation he'd wanted so desperately to have earlier. It didn't seem so important now, in light of the fact Jack was alive and Mac was determined not to be put on the sidelines again. "Is she?"
"You know what I'm talking about, dude." Jack removed his hand from where it had briefly rested on Mac's arm, obviously willing to take the chance on delving into emotional territory.
Mac looked up at him, figuring he might as well follow his partner's lead. "Are you sorry you did it, or sorry I found out?"
"Both I guess. I'm not sorry I made the deal if that's what you're asking," Jack clarified. "I do wish Hammond might have had a little more tact with letting that particular cat out of the bag. His timing always sucked."
"You could have told me yourself, spared us all that Jerry Springer moment." It wasn't like there hadn't been opportunity. Mac and Jack had spent hours on stakeouts, hunkered down monitoring situations across the world. Jack was never short on words or stories.
"You don't know how many times I came close, kid. Each time I'd go on a mission and make it back alive I'd think about coming clean, but then I'd talk myself out of it. Before I knew it, five years had gone by and I only had a couple left. There didn't seem a point to hurt you, because I knew it would." Jack glanced away. "Then the whole thing with Nikki happened and I couldn't bring myself to give you one more reason to doubt someone you trusted, and honestly, seeing how you felt about her afterwards, it scared me. I ain't going to lie. I was afraid I might lose you."
"Nikki's deal was nothing like yours." Mac waited for Jack to look at him once more. "It wasn't self-serving. In fact, if Iraq was one of the first ones on your contract, which I'm guessing it was considering how Hammond hid it from me and the rest of the team at the time, your payoff was nowhere near as sweet as hers."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Jack held Mac's gaze. "Five million dollars sounds nice, but what I got out of my deal was a hell of a lot more valuable."
"Thank you." They were simple words, especially in light of the complicated feelings Mac had about what Jack had done. There were questions he wanted answered about the missions, specifics his detail oriented mind demanded in place of vague conclusions he'd drawn for himself since finding out about the grand, albeit, well-meaning deception. But now was not the time. After all this was over, Mac and Jack would take some time at Mac's grandfather's cabin, where only the fish and beer would offer distractions from the whole story. Jack might be good at diversion and a master of half-truths, but if Mac asked him something straight out, he was a shitty liar.
"How about we save any gratitude on your part until you're no longer in this damn hospital bed suffering because of something I did."
"No matter what happens, this isn't your fault." Mac reached out and grabbed Jack's wrist when Jack started to get off the bed. Mac could see the building denial, his partner's refusal to admit the truth about the situation Nobel, and only Nobel, had put them in. "That's what you told me about Pena, what you told me when I was trying to save you from that bomb that The Ghost planted. I'm guessing you meant what you said."
"You know I did." Jack stayed where he was, his voice sharp. "I'd have never blamed you, not even for a second. Neither would have Pena."
Mac tried not to think about his former training officer, he especially worked hard at blocking the images of Jack being blown apart, a picture that was all too fresh considering the nightmare he'd had only hours before back at Five-0 and the experience he'd gone through watching the house Jack was in be obliterated by Nobel's crude bomb.
"You believe that, right?" Jack caught his eye.
Mac nodded. "I'll try if you try to work on not blaming yourself for what's happening to me."
"How about you check in on my progress after you're no longer under attack by one bad ass toxin." Jack made a fist and knocked it lightly against Mac's. "Deal?"
"Deal," Mac conceded, knowing his partner well enough to know it was as much progress as he was going to make when he wasn't even capable of pulling off a decent fist bump. He switched gears, noting the bruises on Jack's knuckles along with a decent nick. It was nothing in the grand scheme of knife wounds and concussions but Mac was desperate to gain some ground. "What happened to your hand?"
"It's nothing," Jack tried pulling the hand in question back towards his lap, going so far as to cover it with his other.
"It looks like something." Mac studied the older agent, blinking when his vision blurred once more. "I hope you didn't piss off any of the medical staff. These people have needles and other sharp instruments they may want to use on me."
"Don't' worry, kid. I might have had a go around with a particularly aggravating wall, but we worked it out." Jack uncovered his hand, bending and flexing his fingers.
"I guess I should just be glad you didn't do that on Bozer's face." Mac raised a brow, crossing his arms to stay warm. "You didn't, right?"
"Nah, me and Bozer are good." Jack's mouth tugged at a smile. "He's actually working on something with Jerry, but he'll be around here soon."
Jack had no more gotten the words out than the door to Mac's room swung open and he grinned at Mac. "In fact, that might be him."
"Afraid not." Mac had a line of view of the door over Jack's shoulder and recognized Dr. Kamaka and one of the nurses from before. She was pushing a cart holding a computer tablet as well as several other instruments. Mac instinctively drew closer to Jack, all the while silently berating himself for the fear reflex.
"It's good to see you awake, Mac." Dr. Kamaka came around the other side of the bed, leaving Jack where he was.
"Without the use of some heavy drugs, it's not like him to stay out for long in a fine establishment such as this, Doc." Jack glanced at Mac, staying put as if he could hear his partner's internal dialogue of 'don't you dare leave'. He gave a wink. "In fact, some have had to resort to restraints just to keep him in his bed."
"I don't think we'll be needing those considering Mac's condition isn't exactly currently one that is optimal for plotting an escape." The doctor picked up the tablet and his gaze went from the screen to Mac and then back.
"But…" Mac started to interject that he wanted to debate that assessment but Jack cut him off.
"Don't underestimate my partner." Jack watched the nurse as she went about checking the monitors, noting the readouts on her own computerized chart. "I've seen him rig up an oxygen tank to an electric wheelchair and stage one hell of a break out."
"Don't listen to Jack." Mac told Kamaka as he kept his eyes on the doctor, willing his body to cooperate, to not show how poorly he was feeling. He tried to widen his eyes and look alert and more with it than he felt. "He's been known to exaggerate my exploits and he'd also have me in the hospital ER for the common cold if I didn't' keep his worrying nature under control."
"I just read a report from an extremely thorough nurse from your Phoenix Foundation that hints at the fact Agent Dalton might not be pulling my leg." Kamaka glanced at Mac as he returned the tablet to the cart and pulled the dreaded pen light from his pocket. "And he was also right about your scans. They were impressive."
"Sally," Mac breathed, suppressing another shiver. He glared at Jack who at least had the good graces to hide his laugh behind a cough.
"Speaking of the tests," Jack cleared his throat, regaining his composure. Mac tensed when the doctor went to inspect each of his eyes, he felt Jack's fingers brush against his wrist and Mac tried to stay still and endure the torture. "How's my boy doing?"
"The scans didn't reveal anything we didn't suspect from the information we already collected thanks to your labs at Phoenix and the one from the War College in Washington." Kamaka gave Mac a sympathetic smile when he finally drew back and put his pen light away. "You have some of the brightest minds in the field trying to decipher this toxin, young man. I'm impressed by your friends in high places, but I'm afraid there isn't much we can add to that."
"So I can go?" Mac asked hopefully, albeit still a bit breathless.
"What? No." Jack was quick to intercede. He looked from Mac to Kamaka, A worried frown on his face. "You're telling me there's nothing you can do about the symptoms? What if he has another episode like the last one?"
"That's indeed possible, and honestly quite likely, only I'm afraid the intensity as well as the frequency will only increase the longer the toxin stays in his system," the doctor answered seriously. Mac felt some of the fight leave him at the mere thought of enduring another round of pain like he'd suffered before. He swallowed hard, ignoring the new wave of nausea that seemed to always be in the background. He glanced at Jack, who looked more stricken than Mac felt.
"Then what good is all your machines and monitors if you can't even help him." Jack snapped frustrated, shoving a hand through his hair, as he stared down Kamaka.
"I didn't say we couldn't help." Kamaka sat on a rolling stool he'd pulled from the corner and rolled it up to the bed so he could address both men, his face remaining serious. "I know it's been explained to you by my colleague Dr. Kunha that using any drugs, including antipyretics to bring down Mac's fever or opiates to control his pain is not advisable at this point."
"We understand that," Mac answered quickly, agreeing with the assessment.
"We don't like it," Jack interjected, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to hear what you can do."
"We can keep Mac hydrated and on oxygen as his breathing becomes more compromised, which it will." Dr. Kamaka looked apologetic. "Your body has technically been invaded by a synthetic virus. It's causing mass chaos in several systems including your immune and endocrine systems. Messages are misfiring sending chemicals into your brain that shouldn't be there. It's resulting in over activity in synapses in integral areas, Mac." Kamaka touched his finger to several points on his own head, his eyes never leaving Mac's. "Places that control things like pain reception, vision, and respiratory functions. It's also why your fever is out of control as its also messing with the hypothalamus which controls body temperature. If the influx of information continues and your body tries to fight off the invasion and refigure, everything will begin to shut down."
Jack's dark look remained on the doctor, his brows drawing together. "Thanks for that very specific doom and gloom blow by blow, Doc, which I have already endured from your colleague Dr. Kunha, but I'd much rather hear how you're going to help my partner's brain from frying until I can get the damn antidote."
"Jack," Mac said slowly, narrowing his gaze at his partner.
"We're not completely helpless in fighting the symptomology, Agent Dalton." Dr. Kamaka didn't seem phased by Jack's outburst. He kept his gaze on Mac. "We can keep you hydrated as I said, use some cooling techniques if your core body temperature climbs much higher, which may work two fold in your favor as it might actually lower your blood pressure and slow the metabolism of the toxin."
"I take it the lemon grass oil isn't going to cut it?" Mac gave a weak, albeit hopeful smile.
"Natural remedies are wonderful against typical fevers, in fact, fevers themselves aren't usually half as nefarious as people think." Kamaka's gaze shifted from Mac to Jack before going back. "They actually can be beneficial, but I was thinking external cooling techniques such as hyperthermia blankets and ice packs if yours climbs much higher. There is always extracorporeal blood cooling but I would rather stick with the least invasive measures."
"I would also rather you keep all my partner's blood on the inside of his body as I consider that one of my priority missions." Jack folded his arms over his chest giving the doctor what Mac realized was his Delta Commander 'this sounds like a suggestion but you better damn well take it as an order' kind of glower.
"How about we take Mac's treatment one crisis at a time," Kamaka suggested. Mac noted that the doctor was nonplussed by Jack's threatening stance and chalked it up to the man working at an Army hospital and having dealt with Jack's type before. "Right now, I'm going to have Leah start with some convective measures, using fans and an increase in the air conditioning." He patted Mac's leg as he stood, his attention going to Jack. "You may want to consider a jacket if you're planning on staying the night, Agent Dalton. It will keep you warm and keep your shirt from further frightening my staff."
Mac couldn't prevent the snicker that Jack's incredulous look elicited. Even if it made his head hurt more, it was worth it.
"I hope we're not being charged extra for the bad bedside humor, Doc," Jack called after Kamaka who'd made a perfectly timed exit, taking his attending nurse with him.
"They don't get that the alternative was much worse," Mac offered when Jack refocused on him, rubbing two fingers over his aching forehead. "At least I respect your sacrifice."
"Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time you were the only one on my side." Jack reclaimed his seat on the edge of Mac's bed. He glanced down at Kamakeona's smiling face. "Maybe I should hit the gift shop and grab one of those flowered Magnum P.I. monstrosities before anyone else gives me grief."
"Or you could go to McGarrett's place, take a real shower, borrow something not NAVY from him and get some sleep before tomorrow's mission." Mac wasn't big on Jack leaving but he understood his partner hadn't had any rest since Nobel shot him back in Los Angeles. "A mission you still haven't filled me in on."
"You trying to get rid of me?" Jack's brow furrowed as his eyes found Mac's once more. He of course dodged the explanation of the mission. "What happened to you not wanting me to go? You're starting to sound as nit-picky as some of the women I've dated lately." One brow hiked up.
"I'm not being capricious, I just…" Mac started.
"That's good, because I have no idea what that means," Jack interrupted, holding a hand up when Mac opened his mouth to continue. "I do know that I don't need a shave, shower and a fancy shirt to fire a gun. I've pulled a trigger without sleep and proper hygiene countless times over. So, I'm already set for tomorrow. You're stuck with me." Jack made his point by getting up and dragging the lone chair in the room closer to Mac's bed before plopping himself in it. "At least until sunrise."
"So the plan is for you to kill Miguel Quesan during the fake exchange?" Mac couldn't deny the wash of relief that his partner's presence brought but the mention of Jack shooting people brought a bigger wave of anxiety and dread. "You can't just kill the man, even if he is a war criminal."
"Oh, I can. Considering you understand my skillset better than anyone, you know that, bud." Jack kicked his feet up on the bottom rail of Mac's bed, making himself comfortable. "And I will if that's what it takes. Something you should also understand considering you know me better than anyone."
"Can and should are two entirely different things and you know it. Killing him doesn't guarantee Nobel will play fair." Mac did know Jack better than anyone, realized on some level that trying to talk him out of going through with whatever Nobel wanted was going to be impossible, especially when they'd just sat through the doctor's play by play of Mac's grave condition. But Jack also understood Mac better than anyone, which meant he'd know Mac couldn't at least try and stop him from going to the extreme, from doing something that might save Mac but would inevitably hurt Jack in the end. Just like his deal to get Mac out of Afghanistan. "You might not get the antidote."
"I will get the antidote." There was no room for disagreement in Jack's tone. "Hopefully, with Bozer's help and McGarrett's team running interference, I won't have to take out Quesan which will spare me some time in the Brigg. He'll be the one spending the rest of his years in a prison where he belongs." Jack leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as his determined eyes found Mac's. "But don't ask me to show that bastard Jonas the same mercy. I'm going to finish Nobel for even thinking he could touch my family. He's going to pay for what he did to you."
"And what if he has the same thing in mind for you, Jack?" Mac voiced his biggest fear, the one that echoed from the nightmare he'd had earlier about The Ghost, the one that had nearly been realized when he'd watched Nobel's bomb consume the house Jack had been in. "What if shooting me, the poison, all of it was just the beginning of what he has planned to get revenge on you?"
"I'm not going into this alone, Mac." Jack tried to look reassuring, briefly squeezing his partner's arm. "I'll have back-up."
"I won't be there," Mac pointed out, slowly accepting that he wasn't going to make it out of bed on his own, much less back to Five-0 headquarters. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, his vision blurring again.
"I know and that sucks because you know there is no one else I'd rather have watching my back." Jack glanced at the door and then back to Mac. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the rail of Mac's bed. "But I promise I won't leave you in the dark. Not again. It's not the same, but I'm going to make sure you're practically sitting on my shoulder the whole time."
"Really?" Mac's mouth twitched, wondering at what unique plan Jack could have possibly devised to pull off what he was proposing. "And will I be playing the part of the devil or the angel in this little scenario?"
Jack snorted, leaning back in the seat once more. "That's the million dollar question but my money is on the first one, because despite what dear old Nana Beth thinks of her precious Angus I ain't never seen a halo or a set of wings anywhere on you, brother."
Mac knew Jack had indeed witnessed quite the opposite. In fact, Jack might have been the only person Mac loved that had seen the other side of the mild-mannered, cool and collected intellectual that many believed him to be. It was a side very different than the part of Mac which was adamant about the preservation of life, the one devoted to his humanity. It was a facet of himself Mac discovered in the desert of all places. Mac may have joined the Army with the most honorable of intentions, believing whole heartedly that there were things worth dying for, but if combat had taught him anything about himself it was a very different lesson-the flip-side of the coin. War had showed Mac that there were also people worth killing for, and that if pushed come to shove, he was as capable as his partner at that particular skill set. If Jonas thought he and his role model Alfred Nobel were the only ones that could use science as a weapon, Angus MacGyver was the perfect person to prove him wrong.
To be continued…
A/A/N: Dear readers, the next chapter may be a little longer in coming as I will be going on a trip for work and will not be able to squeeze in my daily writing for the next week or so. Hopefully though, I'll come back with some good material as New Orleans always inspires me. Thank you so much for your patience!
