A/N - So, here's some Jammy Jack and a little more h/c for those who asked for it.

Mac's sleep had been thin since going to bed anyway. He woke for about the tenth time when he rolled over onto his tenderized side again. He grumbled to himself as he finally conceded that Mel had probably been right and maybe, just maybe, one of his prescription pain pills, reserved for emergencies, might have been in order before bed. He picked up his phone off its charging station on his nightstand and checked the time. It was only 2 a.m. He had no obligation to be up at any particular time and it's not like they were going to get called in to Phoenix with Jack officially out of commission pending medical clearance anyway.

He supposed he could take a pill. He would finish his night on the sofa with the television on for company since, while the relief might improve the quality of his sleep pain-wise, those types of meds often let through the sorts of dreams that were less restful. The television had a way of orienting him more quickly upon waking than even the light in the bedroom. And hey, maybe he'd get lucky and just sleep through. Stranger things had happened. And even though he'd said it as part of a less than truthful statement earlier, Mac hadn't really been lying when he told Mel and Jack he was beat.

Mac groaned as he sat up and switched on his light, pulling up his t-shirt to take another look at his side. Damn, those were pretty colors, as Melody had so wryly put it earlier. Jack really had laid into him pretty hard, or maybe he'd landed on something when they hit the floor. He'd been so concerned about waking Jack and settling him down at the time, he really couldn't say. Knowing it was stupid, but quite unable to help himself, he poked at the center of one of the bruises. "Ow," he said to himself, finally making the decision to go ahead and take a pill and catch some sleep out on the couch. He shuffled into their shared bathroom for the medicine cabinet. He missed his house. He missed the space. The private bathrooms. The pool for blowing off steam. He missed the deck for pacing on when he couldn't sleep. He missed not having to drive for forty minutes to take a decent trail run; not that he could realistically do that with the shape his side was in anyway. But that wasn't the damned point. No wonder he'd gotten grouchy with Mel tonight, he thought to himself, not quite willing to recognize that he was making an excuse for a behavior that everyone else recognized as a habit rather than an anomaly, even Mel.

He was tired of his life being turned upside down by Murdoc, by the Organization. Hell, sometimes he was tired of Phoenix turning his life upside down. He shook his head. He didn't mean that. He loved his job, he was good at his job. It was too important to think like that, anyway. He'd just opened the bottle containing the few stronger pain pills he kept around when there was a crash from Jack's room and a shout of pure distress. Mac dropped the bottle and skidded out of the bathroom, almost wiping out on the slick linoleum floors in his socks.

It only took Mac a few second to get to Jack's room, but he found his partner already sitting on the floor, wide awake, knees up, elbows resting on them, with his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Mac approached with slow carefulness. "Hey, Big Guy," he said softly.

Jack didn't raise his head, just pressed the heels of his hands harder into his eyes. "Hey, kid. I wake you up?"

"No, man, I was up," he said, and Jack could hear that it was an honest answer. Only his own distress kept him from following up on why that might have been true. Even though it was black, Mac could see that Jack's t-shirt was soaked. "Where were you this time, buddy?" he asked gently.

"Belarus," he answered, his voice husky. "Go back to bed, Mac. You lost enough sleep over me last night."

Mac sat down on the floor next to him, giving him a little space, but close enough that Jack would know he was there. "Yeah, like that'll happen." He waited for a minute. At least Jack's breathing was becoming a little less ragged. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing, bud, I'll be fi …" Jack choked back a sob and then just held his breath for a minute.

Mac draped an arm around his shoulders. He spoke with the gently teasing tone Jack often used with him, bringing up the one name that always brought Jack back to himself, the one person who would understand Belarus. "When Fred holds her breath when she's crying, Sarah blows on her face. I could go get Sarah to blow on your face."

Jack gave him a shove. "You shit." But he cracked a half smile and he'd stopped holding his head. "I dreamt I didn't make it back to say goodbye to my dad. Then it all changed and I didn't make it back at all. I … Sleep's been kind of a horror show since we got home this time, kid."

"Can't imagine why, Jack," Mac said with obvious sarcasm.

Jack just puffed out a long ragged breath in reply.

"Seriously though, Jack. Belarus. Do you think seeing Sarah might help?"

"You aren't gonna go wake up that poor woman in the middle of the night just because I'm havin' a bad time," he grumped.

Mac put his arm around Jack's unpleasantly sweaty shoulders again. "For one thing, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind; she's Sarah. And, I know it was a baby conversation she and Mel were having so you were only half listening, but she still gets up at two to feed Fred every morning. I'm pretty sure she's up. You want me to text her and see? I could go up and put Fred back down for her and sit until she comes back."

Mac found himself suddenly crushed in a classic Jack Dalton bear hug. He managed not to groan when it hurt his side. Instead he just hugged Jack back. "I take it that's a yes?"

"You're a better friend, a better kid than I ever deserved, ya know it?"

"I am quality offspring and friend material as we've previously established," he said very formally. Jack chucked into his shoulder before releasing him. Mac got to his feet to go grab his phone, certain Sarah would be both awake and amenable to helping a friend. "You okay till she gets here?"

Jack looked up at him, eyes rimmed in red, but he nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, man."

Mac nodded. "It's what we do, Jack."

0-0-0

Sarah found Jack where she had almost expected to find him. Where she always found him, if things were really mentally not okay. Sitting in the bathtub, in the dark, hugging his knees. She could see him well enough from the light in their hallway.

She put the seat and then the lid down on the toilet and sat down. She shook her head smiling. Boys. Maybe one of them would eventually fall in in the middle of the night and break that habit. The thought made her snicker. He looked up. She'd never been a 'pink' sort of person, but the soft smoky sort of pink bathrobe she was wearing was very pretty on her, Jack thought. She was holding an open bottle of something. "You still taking pain meds for your shoulder?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "Prob'ly should be, but the dreams are worse if I do."

She nodded. She didn't often dream badly, but she sometimes had flashbacks of really bad times when she was awake. Sense memory was the worst for her. She'd had a moment in the middle of her labor for Fred, and it wasn't even the pain, not really, it was more the smell of some disinfectant and she'd flashed back to a time when Jack had had to cut a bullet out of her side in the field; cut it out and cauterize it. She'd broken his nose. She'd nearly done the same to the nurse in the delivery suite. She apologized afterward, of course, but the nurse had given her a knowing sort of look and told her she'd served in Afghanistan for a while. Must be something around the eyes, Sarah thought. She passed Jack the bottle. "I know all the shrinks say this is the worst idea, but it's kind of a tradition with us."

He took it and opened it. He took a long pull out of the bottle and then sputtered a little. "Shit. Jim Beam, huh? Since when do you drink cheap whiskey?"

She laughed and sat down on the floor next to the tub facing him. "I love that to you, Jim Beam is the cheap stuff ya big snob. Somebody gave it to me as a housewarming gift so it was just in my cupboard. I had it out tonight anyway so it was handy when Mac came up."

"I thought you couldn't drink 'cause you're breastfeeding, Sarah." Jack was now looking at Sarah, a little distracted from his own distress.

"Well, I had one after I went home and put her down," she admitted. "Jeff called tonight." Her tone was flat. Jack let go of his legs and reached out of the tub. She took his hand without even thinking. "He's suing for custody."

"That …"

"Bastard. Yeah. It won't happen. I've got a stable office job, nice safe place to live, wonderful network of friends at the 'think tank' where I'm an administrator. Jeff works for the CIA on record and moves all over hell and gone. And he's never even met her. Not once. My lawyer said it's frivolous. But I'm still furious."

"He knows they'd never find the body, right?" Jack drawled, and even in the dark she could see the sparkle back in his eyes already. It had been the right thing to tell him. Give Jack Dalton one of his own to focus on and all the bad stuff from the past just fell away in a heartbeat.

"I don't need you to disappear my ex for me, Jack."

"Oh, I meant you, but, ya know I'm always happy to help, there, Ms. Adler." He squeezed her hand.

Her voice full of Texas, just the way he most loved it, she squeezed back, "And I appreciatecha." She got to her feet, gently tugging his hand. "C'mon, Dalton, let's get you back to bed. You don't seem as badly off as I expected to find you when I saw poor Mac's face at my door."

Jack's breath hissed as he got to his feet.

"Hurt your shoulder?" she asked, stepping closer, concerned.

"Nah, just got old man's knees," he chuckled, setting the bottle aside on the bathroom vanity.

"Old man's knees you haven't exactly treated very gently for the last five decades."

"Yeah, keep remindin' me how old I am, see how many honest candles make it on your next birthday cake, Sarah."

She laughed and put her arm around his waist. She found his t-shirt damp. Poor guy must've had one hell of a nightmare to be that sweaty, she thought. "I'm still practically a girl, Dalton. You be just as honest as you want," she teased lightly, leading him back toward his bedroom.

He sat down on his bed a little reluctantly. She sat next to him. He cleared his throat. "I … um … I think I might just be up for the day, Sarah. I appreciate you comin' down to make sure I'm okay though. Just seein' you helped. It really did."

She pushed him gently over onto his pillow and then lay down next to him, resting her head on his good shoulder, draping her arm over his hips. "You'll get back to sleep, Jack. You need the rest."

"I … you don't have to stay here, Sarah. Fred …"

"Is with Mac, who is probably better with babies than I am, although how that happened is still a mystery to me. They were both half asleep in the rocking chair in the bedroom before I even left the room. Just close your eyes, Jack. You know those dreams don't dare come anywhere near you when I'm around. They never have."

He sighed deeply. That was true. When he talked about her being 'the one', that was one of the things he meant. He started feeling kind of drowsy after a few minutes. He thought the warmth of the whiskey probably had a little bit to do with it, but the warmth of the woman at his side had a hell of a lot more to contribute. He sighed again. She reached up and started tracing the backs of her knuckles over the stubble on his jaw. Sometimes that was sexy as hell. Other times it worked better than a sleeping pill at knocking him out. This was one of the latter times. He was snoring softly in a few minutes. She knew she could go. Instead, she curled into his side, careful of his healing body, and just breathed him in. There was nothing quite like Jack Dalton. Even sweaty and miserable. The mingled scent of him and clean sheets was the most welcome, peaceful thing she could think of.

When she opened her eyes again there was light filtering through the curtains; she was on her side being spooned by Jack, his arm snugged around her and his chin resting on her head. Mac was standing next to the bed, bouncing a quietly mewling Fred in his arms. She was chewing his t-shirt and Sarah almost laughed when she saw how much drool was spread over one side of it. She blinked a few times before she carefully extracted herself from the sleeping Jack's embrace and sat up. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven," Mac answered, almost as an apology. "I think she's hungry."

Sarah smiled, standing up and reaching out for her daughter. "I bet she is. She has her mama's appetite! And she usually eats around six." The minute Fred got a whiff of her mother she started getting noisier, so Sarah headed out of the room so as not to wake Jack.

Mac followed them. "I tried to give her a bottle. But … Um … I couldn't figure out how to … Um … those bottles don't look like … She wouldn't take it," he finished awkwardly.

Sarah laughed. "They're supposed to be better for breastfeeding babies. Less confusion or some such." She laughed again at his expression. "Have you ever given a baby any kind of bottle before?"

He gave a slightly embarrassed little laugh. "No, I actually haven't. But, I've seen it done plenty of times. I didn't think it would be all that difficult."

She had her hand on the doorknob to leave. "I'm gonna take her home now and give her some of the good stuff. But, if you boys are around later, I'll come by and give you a Fred feedin' lesson. If you want."

He grinned. "Sure."

"Good. Because I was going to ask you if you'd babysit for me some night. I do believe I'd like to take that handsome roommate of yours out to dinner when he's feelin' a little better."

Mac tilted his head to one side. "Feeling better?"

"You might want to have Mel look in on him today. I think he might be running a fever again." Mac's eyes widened. "Not a bad one. But better safe than sorry."

Fred started to fuss in earnest and Sarah closed the door, leaving Mac to go look in on Jack, and text Mel to find out what her day looked like.