Hey y'all! Just like I promised this is a part 2 of His Greatest Fear Time for Jack's fears to be revealed! Mac and Jack have a little heart-to-heart. There's some Jack angst and a sweet moment between he and Mac so I hope y'all enjoy!

(Sorry about the mix-up with the chapters earlier! I accidentally clicked the wrong document and so the story updated with an earlier chapter of a different story! But here's the actual chapter! Enjoy)

Jack was twelve. Lightning cracked across the sky as the flash flood, brought on by the violent storm, swept young Dalton downstream. His nose and mouth were clogged with mud and water. He chocked as he tried to get a breath in. The young boy was terrified, his heart nearly stopping as he was forced back under. He was tumbling in circles and he couldn't stop long enough to catch his breath. He could hear Pops and the other hands screaming his name, but he couldn't reply. He heard them screaming for Wallace, but Jack never heard a response from the old ranch-hand. He didn't know at the time, but he would never hear from the hand again. Jack reached out desperately for a rock and his hands came away bloody. The back of his shirt got snagged on a branch, pulling tight, and cutting off his air supply. He struggled and yanked as the water pulled him against the resistance of the branch. He felt his head get fuzzy and his vision grew dark...

Jack was 21. His first failed mission. 12 men, killed with an roadside bomb. Lightening and thunder mingled explosively outside, reminding him of that fateful IED. He flinched as the door of his commander's office flew open. Jack stared at the respected man, trembling slightly. Shock set in as the commander solemnly congratulated him. As the only survivor of the ambush, Jack was being awarded the Medal of Honor. The Medal of Honor for being slow. He didn't know what to do. He chocked out a thank you, managed a handshake, and bolted out of the office. A bright light filled his vision as he was flung backwards, his vision fading...

The air was tight with tension as the Deltas moved into position. Worthy and Jack watched through the scopes of their guns as the mercs below hurried to get in their tents to escape the pouring rain. The American team slowly and silently advanced, watching their step carefully. They moved in on the camp guards, not wanting to use their guns until absolutely necessary, preferring to use hand-to-hand when they could. They were only a few feet away, Fitzy being closest, when lightening lit up the sky. The team scattered as the bright electricity illuminated them, exposing them to the enemy. Jack yelled in warning as one guard spun, shooting Fitz point blank in the leg. The man screamed as he went down. Jack ran to his aid. It wasn't the first time one of his men had been shot, but after Thorpe... Jack grabbed the injury, stemming the blood that was pouring from his friend's leg. He screamed for help as Worthy gunned down the enemy. He lifted Fitzy, ignoring the man's scream of pain. They staggered away from the merc's camp, tears pouring down Jack's face and mingling with the rain. More shots were heard. More men fell. Jack felt a searing pain in his leg as he fell to the ground, Fitzy rolling with him. Hands grabbed him, lightening cracked, thunder boomed...

Jack stared at the tub under him, water pouring off his head. He heard a loud sequence of Arabic commands but he couldn't understand them. He tried to protest but his head was shoved underwater. He couldn't see. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He was going to die. He screamed and thrashed under the surface, pushing against the edges of the tub to try and pull his head out. Lightening and thunder collided outside, making a cacophony of sounds that hurt Jack's ears. Hands grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his back, almost pulling them out of their sockets. He thudded forward, his momentum driving the edge of the tub into his lungs and stealing what little air was left. His body reacted before he could control it, resulting in water pouring into his lungs. He was going to die. He couldn't get any air. he was trapped under the water. Lightening cracked outside as Jack's lungs filled with water, his mind numbed and he felt himself dimming...

Jack shot up out of his cot, barely restraining a scream as thunder cracked loudly. He stared at the entrance to the tent, his heart in his mouth at the sound of water beating down on the Earth. He could still feel the water in his lungs and feel his ribs caving against the tub rim. He tasted salt on his lips and realized that he was crying. He took a deep shuddering breath and forced himself down close enough to Earth to recognize the sound of the other soldiers around him. They were all shifting in their sleep and a couple were even muttering to themselves. Jack could hear Mac next to him, twisting around in the dark. The kid sounded restless, and he wasn't asleep.

"Mac," Jack whispered, leaning out of his cot, "what's wrong, man?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," Mac murmured back, his voice taught with worry, "you sound upset."

Jack was taken back a bit, "I'm fine, Mac."

He could practically feel the sardonic eyebrow raise from his young partner, "right, which is why you woke up almost screaming. Don't try to bullshit me, Jack. I can sense it."

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I'm fine, kid, I swear. Just a..."

"Bad dream?" Mac finished, when Jack seemed unwilling, "it's understandable, Jack. Everyone has them."

Jack was quiet for a moment, then jumped as lightening cracked through the sky. He automatically found himself on his feet with his gun in his hand at the ready. He shook with tension as memories crashed around his head. He vaguely heard a light rustling beside him, but couldn't make himself turn away from where he'd last heard the storm.

He suddenly became aware of a presence at his back. He spun around swiftly and lifted his gun. He stared in fear at the pure calm lining Mac's face as the barrel of Jack's gun pressed into his forehead.

***Line Break***

Mac recognized the look on Jack's face, the primal fear that etched itself into the corners of his eyes as lightening lit up the tent.

"Dalton," a cautious voice spoke up from nearby, the sound of a blanket being thrown away reaching Mac's ears, "Dalton, what-"

"Shh," Mac snapped, risking a glance to the side. A couple men were up and watching Jack carefully, their hands ghosting over their own weapons, "both of you lay back down and just go back to sleep. I've got this covered."

The men looked over at him in concern, "Macgyver."

"I've got this," Mac replied coolly, trying desperately to ignore the cold metal pressing into his head, "he won't hurt me."

The two men looked skeptical but one harsh glare from Mac sent them back to their cots. Mac shifted his focus back to his partner, who looked panicked as more lightening cracked across the sky. Jack flinched, causing Mac to suck in a breath. If Jack flinched even at all the wrong way and he pulled that trigger...

Mac took a deep breath, "Jack, listen to me," he said gently, holding his hands out placatingly, "buddy, hey, it's Mac. You see me? I need you to see me, okay?"

Jack stared at him, his eyes tear-filled, glazed, and panicked. Mac reached forwards and gently placed a hand on Jack's gun hand. He slowly wrapped it around his partner's hand, forcing himself to stay relaxed as Jack tensed.

"Easy, man," Mac soothed, rubbing circles on the back of his friend's hand, "I won't hurt you."

Jack stared at Mac's hand, watching as the young blonde gently wrapped a hand around Jack's gun, easing it away. The ex-delta's hand shot forward and latched onto his friend's wrist. Mac froze, allowing Jack to control the situation. The delta needed control right now, and Mac wasn't going to deny him that. Jack pried the kid's wrist, pulling him away from the gun. Lightening cracked again and in an instant, Jack had yanked away from Mac and was backed up into a corner. His arms were wrapped around his legs and he was shaking.

Mac felt his heart break just a little as he tried to make sense of why Jack was acting this way. Had he had a nightmare, or...? Sudden realization slapped Mac in the face as lightening lit up Jack's face. The storm. Jack was afraid of the the storm. He bit his lip and focused solely on his friend. He wasn't sure how to handle Jack when he was like this. His friend was usually the one talking him out of panic attacks. Not the other way around. He took a deep breath and pulled on what he knew Jack did to help him.

"Hey, Jack," he said, using a gentle but firm tone, "look at me, man. I need you to focus on me."

Jack's wild eyes turned to him, not focused, but paying attention. Slightly. It would have to be enough.

"I'm going to come towards you," Mac warned his friend, "please don't blow my head off. Wouldn't be very Bruce Willis of you."

Jack released a breathy gasp, "Mac," he had one hand kneading his chest, "lighten-" he was cut off by another crack coming from the sky. He flinched and pressed his face against the tent wall.

Mac sped up a bit, coming to a stop when his ankle rested against Jack's leg. Jack stared at the spot where the physical contact was initiated.

"Mac," he whispered, the contact seeming to help him come back down to Earth, "the storm..."

"I know," Mac smiled weakly, relieved that Jack was cognitive enough to speak, "it'll be over soon. We just have to wait it out."

Jack nodded jerkily, glancing down at the spot next to him before looking back up at Mac. His brown eyes silently pleaded with his partner to come closer. Mac obliged quickly, dropping to the ground next to him. Their shoulders were touching when Jack leaned in, resting his head against the blonde.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, shame lacing his tone.

"Nothing to apologize for," Mac replied quickly, wanting to shut down that line of thought as swiftly as possible.

"But-"

"Nothing," Mac didn't let him finish, turning his gaze to meet Jack's and letting the other man see the authenticity in his eyes, "everyone has fears, that's perfectly okay," he assured his friend, unintentionally mimicking the only positive words he'd ever heard regarding fears, Jack's words, "you're not less of a person because you're afraid of storms."

Jack stared at him as the storm raged outside. The wind seemed to be screaming at them, the thunder shouting abuses as the lightening cracked like a whip. Jack flinched, leaning harder into Mac as he sought comfort.

"I was wondering," Mac said thoughtfully, using the distraction tactic that Jack had used several times with him before, "what does Old Jude do with the cattle in the storms?"

Jack stared at him in surprise, "you're actually curious about my dog?"

Mac raised his eyebrow, "dude, you talk about him so much, I could probably pick him out of kennel full of identical dogs."

"There is no dog identical to Ole Jude," Jack said indignantly, unknowingly feeding into Mac's distraction, "I'll tell you what though, he was the best during storms with the cattle. Sometimes, out at the ranch, they'd get so bad we couldn't be out there, obviously. But Ole' Jude could. he'd heard a few hundred head all by himself, getting them into the barn and I swear sometimes he'd shut the door by himself! That dog..."

Mac smiled to himself as Jack babbled on about his ranch dog and the cattle. His plan had worked. Jack was sufficiently distracted. The delta would still flinch when the storm sounded especially bad, but for the most part, he was just fine.

***Line Break***

It took the storm a couple hours to end and by the time it did, Jack's nerves were beyond shot. He was exhausted and almost his entire weight was up against his partner. His mind was sluggish and he couldn't function at all. He'd stopped talking about 30 minutes before it was over and had settled with listening to Mac go off on one of his tangents about the science of some obscure nature law thing. He had tried to retain what his partner was saying, but he was too tired to hold much in. He felt Mac's hand on his arm tighten and lift him up.

"Let's get you back to bed," he could hear Mac's smile as he said it, "you can still get a couple hours of sleep before we have to get up and get going."

Jack hummed wordlessly, to tired to form words. He didn't have panic attacks often, but when he did they took all of his energy with them. he sighed in satisfaction as he felt the rough edges of the cot and his scratchy blanket. He sank onto the cot, feeling Mac's grip loosen. He knew he had to say something, had to thank his partner for looking out for him. He grabbed Mac's hand as sleep overtook him again. he tried to say thank you, but sleep made it come out all garbled. He heard Mac's small noise of confusion as the blonde tried to understand what he'd said.

He tried again, "thanks..." he managed, relaxing into his bed.

"Anytime, Jack," the delta registered a vague sense of surprise at the reply, "I've got you, Jack. You've got me, and I've got you. Now get some sleep."

As sleep dragged Jack under, he felt Mac release his hand. A few moments later, the blonde's ankle rested on top of his and then, secure in the knowledge that his partner and best friend was there, Jack slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Whew! Okay y'all! Here you go! I hope you guys enjoyed this installment in the series! It was kind of a struggle writing it because the second I sat down on the couch, my massive great pyrenes puppy decided he wanted to be a lap dog. For reference, he's about the size of a lab right now and is about as fluffy as a long-haired husky; whilst I am a petite 5' 2". Makes it a little difficult to write. (she says while laughing through a face full of fur) He is nosing my keyboard as I write this so I can only assume he want's to say hello. Aaaand, there he goes! He is now alternately chasing my cat and ripping up his bed. That'll be fun to clean up later. ;) *dies laughing again*

Anyways! I hope you guys liked this chapter! Leave a review and tell me what you thought! Writing Jack as being the vulnerable one is surprisingly difficult... *shrugs* but it's fun, so look for a couple more like this in the future! Love y'all!

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