THEN

"Booyah!" Bozer yelled slapping the card down.

"Booyah?" Riley said with a raised eyebrow. Bozer grinned and leaned back putting his hands behind his head.

"A statement of complete bliss as I scoop up all this yummy booty." Bozer leaned forward to pull a pile of cheez-its toward him.

"Hold on there, Archie Karas." Desi said with a grin. She flopped down her card. Boze stopped open mouthed.

"Uh-uh, no way!" Bozer plopped down and spread the cards in the middle out. Desi sat back grinning as she plucked up a cracker and nibbled on it. She looked over to Riley who stared at their other two partners in the back of the plane. Desi glanced over her shoulder.

Mac sat staring thoughtfully out the window. Jack sat beside him reading a magazine. Desi knew Jack well enough to know he wasn't reading, he was waiting. Bozer glanced at Riley then at Desi. He set his cards down then leaned forward.

"I can't help but wonder either." He said softly. Riley looked at him for a long moment before she got what he was saying. She held up her hand, glancing over at Mac and Jack then sighed and set them down.

"What happened?" Riley shifted her eyes to Desi. She leaned forward and sipped her Red Bull.

"What does it take to get into a Red House?" Desi shot a worried glance at Mac then leaned forward nibbling another Cheez-it.

"I don't know what happened with Mac. I was in the CIA-"

"They don't have Red Houses?" Desi sighed.

"Every intelligence agency has their own. In the company it was called the Bin." The others raised their eyebrows. Desi shrugged. She leaned forward and shot a worried look to Mac.

"Usually for a guy like Mac, it's after a mission goes bad, seriously bad."

"Do you think Cairo-?" Bozer asked softly.

"No, the looks they shared with Matty...and the mention of Oversight." Riley said.

"If I had to guess, I'd say before Matty was the director, although she did seem-." Desi said.

"Guilty."
"Pissed."

"I was going to say caught in the middle." Bozer and Riley shared a look. Desi chewed slowly as she watched Jack studiously not look at Mac. When she first met Mac, she'd assumed she was to babysit another obnoxious pretty boy no matter what Jack said. She'd resigned herself to her assignment-then she met Mac. Desi wasn't impressed easily, but Mac's talent, strength and steadiness blew her away. The idea he cracked. It was inconceivable. Desi frowned. Either Mac had gone through a special kind of hell or…?

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Jack read the same page for the hundredth time. Actually, he had barely noticed an add for some sort of cologne. Jack didn't care. He was trying hard to not stare at his partner. Not that it would take much cover, Mac was burning a pair of eye-sized holes in the plane's window. Jack didn't think he moved since they sat down. Jack glanced at his watch. Two hours. Jack frowned. He wanted to address the issue weighing so heavy on Mac's mind-but he couldn't. He'd promised not to a long time ago.

It was Fallujah. Near the end of their time in the Sandbox. A village full of IEDs as punishment for the Afghanis who helped Americans break up an active terrorist cell. Jack stood lookout as Mac worked feverishly. He'd cleared half of the village when he found an unusual type of IED. He told Jack it was probably from the Ghost. Jack didn't get worried until Mac called Charlie in a panic. They babbled about SMX, radio blah blah. Mac hung up and shot Jack a panicked look.

The kid found a cord buried six inches or so. Following it, Mac discovered three huts in the center of the village wired to blow at the same time. He looked inside and all of the villager's kids were tied to the bomb. Jack closed his eyes and winced. Mac worked faster than anyone humanly could, but there were too many bombs. One minute left, takes more than three to get clear. Jack grabbed Mac around the chest and heaved him back. NO, NO-DAMNIT Jack-Jack didn't look back, couldn't look back...the frightened cries of children most under the age of twelve was drowned out by the first explosive. It was a miracle Jack kept his footing. His eyes automatically scanned for cover. He dragged Mac toward their hammer. The second explosion knocked them to the sand. Jack's hearing blew. He could see Mac's mouth moving, knew what he was saying. The anguish in his eyes said it all.

Jack ignored that and rolled under the hammer dragging Mac with him, the third bomb, the closest knocked Jack for a loop. When the world made sense again, Mac was scurrying out of cover for the last hut. Jack grabbed him by the foot and got a boot in his face for the trouble. Mac scrambled toward the ring of fire. Jack cussed as he crawled out from cover and tackled Mac. He still couldn't hear, but he could feel Mac's screams of despair reverberate through his body.

It took a couple weeks, but Mac moved on. At least Jack thought so. They went home. Mac had trouble adjusting back. Bozer moved in with him and that helped. Jack could see the wear and tear. Those eyes, no matter how Mac tried, they were windows to his soul. If one knew where to look. Having shared shit that would drive normal people off the edge a hundred times, Jack knew. Jack needed to pay the bills. The CIA offered him a high profile gig with very nice compensation. DXS got to him first with a deal he couldn't refuse-him and Mac together in the field. Mac said yes right away. Jack frowned. Too fast.

Their third mission ended up with a terrorist dying in an exploding car. Mac tipped off the edge. Flashbacks, almost constant panic attacks, and no sleep or extreme nightmares. Jack tried to cover, but DXS was good at what they did. The third week, Mac disappeared.

Jack blew into Thornton's office, a tornado of hostility.

"Where is he?" Jack roared. Thornton looked up unruffled.

"I assume you mean MacGyver?"

"No, I mean Santa Clause, of course I mean Mac! Where is he? We had a deal!" Thornton stood up. The way she moved, the coiled grace, reminded Jack of a praying mantis. She put a hand on his shoulder. For a second he thought humanity shone through.

"You know Mac needed help." Jack stepped back, a cold sweat prickling his skin.

"What did you do, Patty?" Thornton narrowed her eyes but for once didn't correct him.

"He is safe and will return when he is better." Jack felt a knot in his throat.

"Tell me you didn't send him to a Red House." Patricia's face puckered with sourness.

"I have no control over it, Oversight ordered it."
"Oversight? Where is he? I'll have a conversation with him." Jack slammed a fist into an open palm. Thornton sighed.

"Jack, he will be back when he is operational."

"Patty-"

"That's Director Thornton!" They stared into each others eyes. Jack backed down.

"Can I at least call him?"

"He'll be back when he's operational."

Mac came back a month later. He was pale, gaunt and covered with bruises. Worst of all was the shell-shocked eyes.

"There you are! I got a pie and some brews!" Jack roared as he barreled into Bozer and Mac's home. Bozer grinned and gave Jack a bro-hug. Mac sat on the back of the couch staring into space. Jack went up to him and touched his shoulder. It took forever for the blonde to meet his eyes.

"Mac-?" Independent of his eyes, Mac smiled.

"Pizza and beer? Sounds great!" Jack couldn't help think of anything but a robot. Mac's responses lagged behind what he should be feeling. Jack cornered him later that night. Mac was sitting on the deck staring into the fire. The flames reflecting in his blue eyes held the same anguish they'd held in Fallujah. Jack sat beside him a long minute trying to figure out a way to ask.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, brother?" Mac didn't meet his gaze.

"Promise me you'll never ask."

"Mac, wha-" Mac looked at him, tears in his eyes.

"Please, promise." Jack scowled, then nodded.

"Ok, I'll won't ask. But I hope you know I'm here when you're ready-" Mac put a hand on Jack's arm. He gave a genuine if subdued smile.

"I know." They sat in companionable silence. They went back to work the next day to find a drop-dead gorgeous blonde named Nikki waiting to join their team.

Jack smiled. Nikki brought Mac to life and cracked open the kid's heart. Jack leaned back and sighed. Mac had never been a real big sharer, but after his time away he was even more closed off. Working with Jack and getting intimate with Nikki brought Mac out of his hidey hole in that ginormous brain. When she died, Jack was terrified Mac would fall back into his shell. He cracked a bit, but never broken. When Jack went away, Mac crawled into his fortress, then Oversight died. Somewhere between a 103 fever, a typhoon, a meatball surgery, and three months off, Mac was back. Now this. Jack licked his lips trying to swallow the golf ball of worry. He needed to know where Mac's brain was. Jack scratched his forehead trying to think of a way to broach the subject with the blonde statue beside him. Said statue surprised him.

"Are you going to say something or do you just want to snort the cologne sample in that magazine?" Mac sat back and offered a half smile.

"Well, I was just wondering why you were burning a hole in the plane with the heat from that whirring brain of yours." Mac raised an eyebrow.

"You know that's not a thing-and Superman doesn't count." Mac said raising a hand before Jack could say anything. Jack smiled and tossed the magazine over his shoulder.

"Guilty as charged, " He paused and studied Mac. Mac's face barely showed how on edge he was, but Jack knew the tightness around the eyes, the corners of his mouth, the dread in his eyes.

"Mac, look-"

"Jack, I don't-"

"I know. I just want to say, I know this is gonna be hard for ya, but I'm here-"

" I know that, Jack!" Mac huffed. He leaned forward and brushed his unruly mop of hair back. His voice quieted, "I'm sorry. I am on edge, but I'm not in the same place I was before." Mac's throat bobbed. He rubbed his hands together, "And Oversight is gone."

Jack leaned forward.

"What do you mean? What did that bastard do to you?" Mac shot him a glance with deep shadows behind the brilliant blue. He leaned back and rubbed his forehead.

"Him personally, nothing much. It was his idea for me to go to the Red House. There? Well, let's just say being the boss's son is as popular as it is anywhere else." Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck uncurl. Mac stared out the window. He absently ran his hand over his chest. He sighed and turned to Jack.

"Of course at the time I was shell-shocked, a real mess, and I had no idea I was the boss's son so it made things...interesting."
"What happened?" Mac shot Jack a wide-eyed haunted look.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm gonna go win some cheez-its. Want in?" Mac stood up and

joined the others. Jack studied them for a long minute before he took and released a long breath. He stood up and flexed his shoulder muscles. He strolled over to the table and forgot his worry, for a little while.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

NOW

Mac shook his head. The world was a buzz of bees whirling in a tornado that made no sense. He rubbed his temples and groaned.

"Mac? Hey you back?" Mac's head weighed a hundred pounds. He blinked. It was night, but he felt as if he were under a spotlight.

"Jack?" His voice seemed to come down a long echoing hallway far away. He frowned and gasped. Flashes of other places--a steel room, domed, hanging upside down-FALLING! Mac cried out and fell forward. His chest strangled his heart which beat against its cage.

"Mac? Easy I got ya, you ok?" Mac blinked and shook his head trying to slosh the blurriness away.

"Falling-trees-where?" Mac looked up and desperately searched the black woods around him. Everything was blurry and he couldn't quite-

"Jack?" He felt a warm hand on his cheek. Mac followed the hand to harm, to the shoulder, to the neck, to- Mac sagged and let out a deep breath.

"Jack." He sighed. He shivered cold. He crossed his arms and took in his surroundings. Strong smell of pine-ponderosas...Mac winced as snatches of memory bombarded his sore head. Knife, black eyes, stink of garlic...woods running… The hands shook him; somehow turned the focusing dial. Mac swayed and grabbed Jack's forearms.

"Jack...they're chasing me...soldiers...falling." Mac closed his eyes and licked his lips. He fought to take in a deep breath. Jack cupped his cheeks. Mac closed his eyes silently taking inventory, counting every callus, picturing how they fit the grip of his Beretta, every curve that becomes one with the metal-death, life...Mac pulled free and shook his head.

"Jack!" Jack smiled at Mac's annoyance.

"That's it buddy, come on back." Mac blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"Back?" Jack shrugged.

"Close enough." Jack turned from his partner. The blonde wasn't quite back yet, but getting better. Jack glanced over at Riley. They both could hear the distant growl of a large motor coming their way.

"We have to move." Riley hissed. Jack frowned and looked at Mac.

"We need-"

"I got it!"

"You-what?"

"Give me your knife, take off your socks."
"You want me to-what?"

"Jack!" Jack smiled. Riley sounded like Mac with the perfect amount of irritation.

"Fine, fine." Jack mumbled. He plopped onto a half rotten log and yanked off his shoes. He pulled his socks off then handed them to Riley. Riley held them out, her nose wrinkled.

"Ew, gross." She moaned. He pulled his knife from its ankle holster and handed it to her. Riley bent to the wheel and cut out two long narrow chunks. Jack raised his eyebrows. Riley stuck the rubber pieces into the socks. Jack nodded impressed as he stuffed his feet back into his boots. Mac looked down wincing as Riley slid the makeshift shoes over his feet. Mac stood up frowning. He put a hand on Riley's shoulder to steady himself. Mac smiled at her

"Not bad." He murmured. His eyes half-closed and he staggered forward. Jack slid under his left arm, Riley his right. The roar was only a block away. Riley and Jack shared a panicked look as they dragged Mac deeper into the forest.