Hey! So, I'm going to be working on a few different stories at once. Of course, Safe and Sound, I've got one last chapter to finish on Agents of Different Types, I'm working on a Criminal Minds fic, and this is just for my own whump cravings! I'm just going to be working on this one when I need a break from my other stories, so these are all going to be shameless Mac whump one-shots. There may even be some CM crossover one-shots too! They are going to be anywhere from 1000-3500 words in length, so don't be surprised if one is super short but the next one is super long. Also, for this first one, I know that the Mac has Appendicitis plot is thoroughly done, but I just had this guilty Jack idea for one, so here it is. As usual, I do not own anything MacGyver. Enjoy!

Jack Dalton did not feel well. His head was pounding, his throat was sore, and he could barely keep his eyes open as Matty droned on about a recent op they had been on. Jack was admittedly very irritable, rude, and cranky when he was sick, and this debriefing was not helping that or his throbbing head. If that wasn't bad enough, Mac kept shooting him concerned glances that were really starting to tick Jack off.

Just when he thought Matty was going to launch into another spiel about how Mac needed to gain some self-preservation skills, a topic that went in one ear and out the other, Mac leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"Matty, I'm getting kind of tired and having trouble focusing and I think everyone else is too. Is there any way this could wait until tomorrow morning?" Mac asked, putting a convincing tired tone behind his voice. No doubt he was actually tired to some degree, but no one had ever known Mac to openly admit it, nor had they ever heard him admit to not being able to focus. Knowing what he was trying to do, Matty sighed.

"I think I can pull some strings," she said sounding tired herself. Of course, everyone knew what Mac was on about, but the person in question was so miserable that he didn't even catch on.

"Thank God, I am beat," Riley said, standing up to stretch as she began to pack up her rig. Matty, Riley, Bozer left the room, Matty reminding them to be in bright and early tomorrow and the other two swearing that they would.

Mac rose to leave too, but upon seeing Jack was staring off into space, he touched him lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, Big Guy, it's time to go."

Jack jumped slightly but nodded vigorously and rose from his chair with a barely contained groan. The pair made their way down to the parking garage, Jack shuffling along in a daze. When Jack made a move to go to his GTO, Mac gave him a curious look.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked with a glare.

"Home!" Jack snapped back; a lot more aggressively than he meant to.

Mac was slightly hurt by Jack's quick retort, but he knew that Jack just felt like crap. If he had been feeling 100% or even 60%, he never would have been that rude. Over the years, Mac had come to know that they all acted differently when they were sick. Jack got snippy and cranky; Riley and Bozer both got whiney; and everyone said that he got "stubborn and adorable" whatever that was supposed to mean.

Gently, Mac placed his hand on Jack's burning shoulder, and started guiding him towards his truck.

"Hey! What're ya' doin'?" Jack exclaimed.

"There's no way I am letting you drive in that condition, nor am I letting you stay by yourself. I'm going to drive you home and then stay at your place until you feel better. I'll send Riley and Bozer over in the morning to get the GTO," Mac explained as he stood Jack beside the passenger side door. Realizing that there was nothing he could do to fight it, Jack begrudgingly climbed in.

By the time they had gotten back to Jack's apartment, Jack had dozed off in his seat and Mac ended up having to wake him up. They slowly made their way up to his apartment and went inside.

"Go get in bed. I think it's late enough for you to take NyQuil, so I bring it to you in a few minutes," Mac said gently pushing Jack towards his bedroom.

"I'm not gettin' in bed," Jack declared with a scowl.

"Fine, but at least go lie down on the couch. I'll bring you some blankets too," Mac sighed, knowing it was no use trying to argue with Jack when he was sick like this; Jack got annoyingly stubborn and irritable.

Jack grumbled something incoherent and stumbled over to the couch. Mac disappeared into the bathroom to retrieve the NyQuil and then went into the kitchen to get a glass of water for Jack to wash it down with. He handed him the pill and the glass.

"Take this Jack, no objections," Mac said forcefully and waited until he had to go for the blankets. He went into Jack's bedroom and realized that the blankets were in the bottom drawer of his dresser. He bent down to retrieve them, but almost dropped them when a sharp pain shot through his lower right side. Gasping at the sudden onslaught, he clutched his hand to his side and rid it out. When it passed, Mac brushed it off as nothing and carried the blanket out to Jack.

When he had gotten him situated with the blankets, Mac followed Jack's example and almost passed out in the guest room bed.

0000

Mac was awakened that morning by a burning pain near his belly button. He groaned and clutched his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. Feeling a familiar wave of nausea pass over him, he rushed out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom before he was puking his guts out. The pain in his stomach combined with the uncomfortable feeling of throwing up made him almost ready to cry. He slumped down and sighed, feeling tons better after the event.

"Great, I've got food poisoning on top of Jack being sick," he deduced, "This is going to be fun."

Just then he heard a nasally, tired voice call, "Mac!" from the living room. With a grimace, Mac slowly got up off of the floor and made his way out to the living room where Jack had fallen asleep.

"Are you okay?" Mac asked him, worry filling his voice.

"I need a drink," Jack whined.

"Okay, just take it easy. I'll bring you some water and I'll make you some broth to go with it," Mac said gently.

"I'm not hungry!" Jack snapped.

"You need to eat something, Jack. It's been almost a full day since you have and you need to eat in order to get better," Mac sighed.

Before Jack could protest, Mac went off to the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and brought it back to Jack. He then went back to make the broth. He reached up to grab the bowl from the top cupboard, but another red-hot pain shot through his lower abdomen. He gasped and instinctually curled in on himself, letting the bowl slip from his grip. It hit the linoleum floor and shattered against it. Mac hardly even registered it through the pain clouding his vision.

"Mac! What are you doin' in there? Are you tryin' to break everythin'? Stop being a klutz!" Jack shouted from the living room.

"Sorry Jack!" Mac called back. He quickly grabbed another bowl and made the broth, carrying it into the living room. Mac handed it to Jack and grimaced as the movement pulled at his side. His hand unconsciously hovered over the spot.

"What's wrong with you?" Jack asked with an almost sarcastic tone behind his voice.

"My side's been bothering me for a few days, but it got a little worse this morning." Mac played it off as if the pain was only an ache and not like a white-hot knife was repeatedly stabbing his right side.

"Probably just pulled a muscle or somethin'," Jack provided.

"Probably," Mac agreed, not wanting to worry Jack in the state he was in. He obviously knew that it was more than a pulled muscle, but he wasn't about to voice that to Jack in his moody state. "I'm going to go clean up the mess in the kitchen."

"Try not to break anything else," he heard Jack mutter as he went around the corner.

As he swept the broken pieces of porcelain up, Mac brushed his hand across his clammy forehead. He definitely had a fever, but right then, he couldn't worry about that. He had to focus on Jack getting better and then he would worry about himself.

When that task was finished, he went into the bathroom to find some cold medicine for Jack to take. While he was rooting through the medicine cabinet, he came across a thermometer in the far back. It looked like it hadn't been used for a while, but it seemed to still be in working order, so he gingerly stuck ran it across his forehead. When the beeping had finished, he glanced at the little screen and saw the numbers 101.8 there. He sighed. That wasn't good.

He filled the little cup with the right dosage of cold medicine and carried it out to Jack. As he made his way there, his head suddenly began to swim, and his vision tilted sickeningly to the side. He distantly felt himself begin to fall forward, but he managed to come to his senses and catch himself with only a stumble. Unfortunately, the stumble caused the little cup of medicine to fall from his hand and spill all over Jack's lap.

"What is your problem!?" Jack exploded, "First you break one of my bowls, then you start complaining about your side hurtin', and now you go and spill medicine all over me. You came here to try and take care of me, but all you're doin' is making me feel worse. I mean, you haven't even made me go to bed! You've just let me sit here on the couch since last night. I think I would be better off takin' care of myself!"

"If that's how you feel, then okay. I'll just go grab my bag and leave," Mac whispered, hurt by Jack's outburst. The problem was, he knew that he deserved it. Even though he didn't feel well himself, he had come here to take care of Jack and that was what he should have been focused on, not his own illness. He wasn't even sure what was wrong with him to begin with.

Mac quietly turned around and headed into the guest room to get his stuff. He locked the door behind him to give himself some privacy. As he was packing up, the worst wave of pain he had felt so far shot up from his side and consumed his whole abdomen. He couldn't even contain the moan that escaped from his mouth as his eyes fogged over. Before he knew what was happening, the floor was rushing up towards him.

0000

Jack sat on the couch feeling like a total jerk. Mac had the biggest heart out of all of them and had willingly given up his weekend just to take care of him. The bowl and the medicine had just been an accident and he shouldn't have thrown Mac's discomfort in his face. In all honesty, Jack was feeling a lot better than he had yesterday, but because he didn't yet feel 100%, he had lashed out at his favorite person in the whole wide world.

Immediately feeling immensely guilty, he threw off the medicine-clad blanket and made his way back to the bedrooms. Seeing that the guest bedroom door was closed, Jack knocked.

"Mac," he called, his voice sounding stuffy from his clogged nose. When no answer came, he tried again. "Mac, bud, I'm sorry. I know you're probably mad at me and I don't blame ya, but at least talk to me!" Once again, he got no answer. He scrunched his euebrows together in confusion. It wasn't like Mac to not talk to someone; he wasn't exactly the kind of person to give someone the cold shoulder, no matter how mad he was.

He reached his hand down to try the doorknob, but found it locked. He jiggled it hard and called, "Mac! Mac open the door!"

Still no response. Jack was really starting to get concerned now. "Mac, if you don't open the door in the next three seconds, I'm gonna bust down the door!"

Jack silently counted to three in his head and then backed up against the wall. Gathering all of the strength he could muster in his state, he slammed his leg against the door. The door's lock flew open and the sight that greeted him made his mouth drop open.

Mac was lying face down on the floor unconscious, his bag still lying half packed on his bed. "Mac!" he cried and rushed to the boy's side, completely forgetting about his own sickness. Jack gently took the boy's pulse and found it faster than it should have been. Not knowing what was wrong with him, he was afraid to touch him let alone move him.

"Hang in there, bud," he murmured and grabbed Mac's cell phone off of the dresser. Dialing 911, an operator almost immediately picked up.

"911 what is your emergency?" the operator asked in a calm tone.

"My friend collapsed, but I don't know what's wrong with him," Jack explained in a hurry.

"Alright, sir, I'm sending an ambulance to your location. Can you tell me what his symptoms are?" She asked calmly.

"I'm not sure. I didn't even know he was sick. He was complaining about his side botherin' him and he feels like he has a fever. His pulse is pretty fast too," Jack explained

"Okay, just stay on the line until the ambulance arrives," the operator soothed.

Jack waited there, holding Mac's clammy hand, until two EMTs rushed inside. After a quick check of his symptoms, they deduced that his appendix had most likely ruptured. They wasted no time in getting him on to a stretcher and rushing him out to the ambulance. Once inside, they hooked him up to an IV and oxygen.

Jack sat beside Mac in the ambulance completely dumbfounded. Less than an hour ago, he had been lounging on his couch, sick and tired, but everything seemed to be okay. Apparently, everything had not been okay, however, because Mac was on his way to an emergency appendectomy.

Jack silently berated himself as guilt consumed him. It was his job to protect the kid! Because he was being so moody, he had failed to notice all of the signs. Now that he thought back to it, Mac had been looking a little pale for the last few days, but he had chalked that up to the amount of sleep, or lack thereof, that he got. But because he had been too worried about himself, Mac was fighting for his life.

The EMTs had told him that they would usually try to lower his fever, but it was slowly climbing, and they couldn't wait any longer to take his appendix out.

When they got to the hospital, Mac was whisked away to an OR while Jack was left to wait in suspense to see if he had possibly fatally harmed Mac with his own ignorance.

0000

Finally, after almost an hour and a half, Jack was called back to Mac's room. Mac had pulled through just fine, but he was going to be sore for a while because it had ruptured. Jack had called Matty to let her know what was going on, but her, Riley, and Bozer wouldn't be there for a while because of an emergency op. Mac had apparently secretly called in to call off for both him and Jack, so Matty wasn't expecting them for the debriefing that morning.

When he got back to Mac's room, he found that he was already awake, although his eyes were still droopy with anesthesia. He was hooked up to an IV line and oxygen, but Jack was relieved to find that no more equipment was present. In his experience, the more equipment you were hooked up to, the worse off you were.

"Hey, bud," Jack said softly.

"You should be in bed," Mac said, his voice raspy, "You're sick."

"Not as sick as you brother. Let me just tell you that you gave me one hell of a scare when I found you passed out on the floor," Jack told him, his voice choked up with emotion, "Why didn't you tell me that you weren't feelin' good?"

Mac looked sheepish. "I was worried about you."

"I get that man, but obviously you had to have known that you were worse off than I was. We've been over this; you can't hide things like this from me," Jack explained forcefully.

"I'm sorry," Mac muttered.

"No, my man, you will not apologize. If anyone needs to be apologizing, it's me. I shouldn't have said any of that stuff to you and now I know that you weren't feelin' good either. I feel real bad that you were so sick and doin' all the work while I just had a cold and I got to lounge around on the couch. As soon as we get home, you're gonna let me take care of you. Before you say anything, will you at least forgive me?"

Mac sighed sleepily. "Jack-" he started but changed track when Jack held up his hand, "Yeah, I forgive you."

Word Count: 2,856

So that may not be all that good, but it was just a little dose of whump. Some of the stuff in this story was based off of experience; I've never had appendicitis, but the stuff that had to do with Jack's illness was based off of my life. We have one of the thermometers that runs across your forehead and my mom always makes me broth when I'm sick. These are the actual symptoms of appendicitis (I looked them up) so it should be mostly accurate. Bye for now!