Jack was waiting just outside Medical, pretending to look at some art on the wall.

Mac grinned and shook his head. "Were you afraid I'd get lost?"

Jack turned with a look of exaggerated surprise. "Oh, hey, Mac. Nah, man, I was just, you know, on my way back from the armory and—"

Mac interrupted. "Before this particular story falls apart and you have to admit you were hovering … You wanna go to the briefing?"

"You goin' too, kid?"

Mac headed toward the elevators. "Yeah."

"So, Doc Rodgers said you're good?"

Mac nodded and shrugged at the same time as they stepped onto the elevator. "What he actually said was he wouldn't keep me off the duty roster…." Mac trailed off, regretting that he'd begun explaining instead of just saying yes.

"But?" Jack asked with a squint Mac couldn't quite interpret.

Mac sighed. "But if this round of antibiotics doesn't knock it out he said we'll 'need to discuss options'."

"What's that mean?"

Mac shook his head and stepped off the elevator. "Nothing good." Mac frowned. "But I really do feel a lot better today. So I think we've finally got it figured out. And Steve agreed to not make any kind of report or recommendation until we talk again after I finish my antibiotics."

"What difference does that make?"

"Since Oversight was the one who texted us about this mission, it's pretty much the difference between me going with you and getting put on the DL."

"That'd be new for your old man though, wouldn't it? He's sent you out into the field in way rougher shape than a nasty sore throat, Mac."

Mac shook his head as he reached out for the door handle to the war room. "That's true enough. But he and I go way back on this particular issue."

Mac was saved from having to explain further by Matty opening the door before he could. "Good morning, gentleman. So nice of you to finally join us."

"Sorry about that, Matty, I—"

"Is your friend feeling better?" she asked pointedly. "If it hadn't sounded like such a big deal I would have been annoyed at you taking a personal day yesterday."

"Much better, thanks," he said, resisting the urge to raise an eyebrow. He hadn't expected Matty to keep this from Oversight and he wondered what he owed her. He covered his curiosity with a glance around the room at the team, including brief eye contact with his father. "Morning, guys. Sorry I held things up."

"No need to apologize, Angus. I've always found your loyalty to your friends, and theirs to you, very admirable," his father said with a slight smile as he handed out the briefing materials about a new cartel playing a role in some violence near the border. He picked up the remote for the main monitor. "This footage is less than ten hours old…"

Everyone turned their attention to the screens, including Mac, who did so with an unexpected feeling of lightness. He felt better, Steve and Matty both kind of covered for him, and Oversight not only didn't pin him with his icy blue stare and demand to know what he was up to, but he'd been downright complimentary.

Maybe his luck was taking a turn for the better.

0-0-0

A sleeping Mac snorted a loud snore and rolled over on the hard floor with a groan. Jack and Riley looked at each other with mutual concern. "I've never noticed Mac snoring before," Riley said quietly.

"He doesn't. Unlike some people." Jack said with a smile and nudged her teasingly with his elbow.

She appreciated the effort to lighten the mood, but she was worried. She knew Jack was, too, but … maybe he was just more used to it or something.

The way his eyebrows knitted together as they sat told her that wasn't it. He was just trying to keep a lid on it. Jack wasn't one to bottle up his feelings though. Mac usually did enough bottling for the whole team. Riley wondered why but didn't want their conversation to wake Mac up. Now that he'd rolled onto his side, he was sleeping more peacefully.

They were eleven days into this mission, and Mac's prescription had fallen out of his coat pocket on day four.

He'd been okay for the first couple of days, but then he'd started to lose his voice. He denied feeling unwell, but it was pretty clear his throat was getting too sore to fake it. And the dry air here wasn't helping.

They'd managed to upload the cartel's hard drives to Matty late Friday and dropped off the zip-tied Capo in the path of Border Patrol. They should have been back in LA days ago. But they'd gotten made by some of the cartel's soldiers on the way to exfill. They were laying low in an abandoned airplane hangar on a defunct farm just outside the city, while Matty figured out a Plan B.

Once he wasn't in constant motion figuring out how to get them to safety and then hot wiring and ditching three different cars to get them here, not to mention stealing a horse, Mac had kind of deflated last night.

As he'd sat, leaning up against the wall, covered in an ancient, possibly moldy, horse blanket, he'd started to doze off while cooking them a dinner of questionable canned beans on an alcohol fire he'd started with mezcal.

"Hey, kid," Jack had said, edging him over and taking the spoon. "I got this."

"No, I can—"

"You haven't slept in three days and you look like Hell. Move over before you burn down the barn, wouldja?"

Mac flashed the barest flicker of a stubborn frown, then he'd sighed softly and admitted, "I'm not feeling so hot, now that you mention it."

He'd barely argued when Riley took off her jacket and made it into a makeshift pillow. "Get some rest," she'd encouraged. "The food'll still be here when you wake up."

At that point he hadn't argued at all, just cast a dubious eye at the pot of beans that said he wasn't really hungry anyway, curled up on the floor, and was asleep before the beans had even heated through.

His sleep was fitful and neither Jack or Riley managed to do more than doze. Now, close to sun up, both were getting impatient for information from Phoenix so Mac could get home, get some medicine, and be … well, Mac again.

Riley opened her laptop like there might be encouraging information on it. But it was no more active than their one remaining phone. "What's taking them so long," she growled.

"Probably trying to figure out how not to tip off the whole rest of the cartel to our location."

"Well, It's been quiet here all night except for Mac snoring and sniffling. Now would be a good time!"

Jack put his arm around her. "In more of a hurry than usual, are ya?" He gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Look at him!" she whispered furiously. "He shouldn't have been sent out in the shape he's in. I'm getting sick of Oversight treating us like property. Especially Mac!"

Jack turned slightly so he could see her face in the dim light of their lantern. "Oversight didn't know."

Riley frowned. "What do you mean he didn't know? He knows everything. That's kind of his job."

Jack chuckled softly. "Well, when it comes to Mac, ole Oversight has some peculiar blind spots."

"So big that sometimes you'd think they never met," Riley agreed. "But I meant at Phoenix, not personal stuff."

Jack gave a little head shake. "He talked Steve into not doing his whole 'report to the boss' thing. Don't ask me how … other than selling his soul or maybe offering babysitting services, which about amounts to the same thing."

Riley snorted a laugh. Mac stirred and started to roll onto his back. She maneuvered around Jack and sat next to Mac, her leg positioned to keep him on his side. Jack raised his eyebrows just a little. "He snores when he's on his back." She frowned at her laptop. "According to every reputable medical website I found that probably means his tonsils are swollen and blocking his airway a little in that position. The infection is the cause, but it makes the pain worse on waking, too."

Jack flashed a half smile. "Mac's gonna be so pissed."

"About what? Me not wanting him to choke?"

"You started out a partner in crime. Sneaking him superglue and bandages when you didn't think Bozer or me noticed. Even this … this sore throat thing … you been covering for our boy off and on for months."

Riley blushed. "You knew about that?"

"Course I did, little girl. Ole Jack mighta been born at night, but it wadn't last night, you catch my drift?"

She laughed again. "Okay, well, you guys, you and Boze, I mean…You're kind of a lot. When you get it into your head somebody needs taking care of." She smirked. "Or actually all the time."

"I guess that's probly fair."

"More than fair." Mac murmured in his sleep. Bad dream noises. He'd been making them off and on all night. Riley absently patted his shoulder until he quieted again. "And … I get Steve … He's got to … like … manage Mac I guess."

Jack laughed, as quietly as it was possible for a surprised laugh to be. "That's one way to put it!"

Riley stuck out her tongue. "I meant he's got to keep Mac's trust while still doing his job. It's complicated. You he has to manage manage, like while you're there."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack huffed indignantly.

"Other than that you're a big baby?"

"Hey now, look who's talkin', Miss Skipped School for a week and a half to avoid getting a booster shot when she was in fifth grade."

Riley blushed furiously and glanced away. "Yeah, Well, I'm a computer nerd, not a big tough," She grinned and gave him her best exaggerated Texas accent, "Delta from the great state a Texas. Go Cowboys."

"Alright, alright. We're both chickens and you probly caught it from me."

"Yeah. That tracks." Mac made another small, almost hurt, noise in his sleep. She leaned to see his face. He didn't look any worse in the pale light coming in the window now than he had all night. She put her hand on his arm though, and left it there. "What I really don't get is Matty. She straight up lied about him taking a personal day to see a sick friend. Right to Oveesight's face."

"She wasn't lookin at him," Jack pointed out.

"You know what I mean smart ass …" Jack nodded, so she went on. "And I just can't figure it out. She's normally the first to just order one of you to Medical or argue with Daddy Mac about pushing it with you guys."

Jack looked at their phone again, willing it to ring. "Mac said somethin' funny back at Phoenix. Somethin' about the not bein' a new problem as far as he and his dad. And … Matty goes way back with him. Maybe she knows somethin' and figured it was better to not cause a dust up between 'em."

Mac whimpered in his sleep and Riley started carding her fingers through his hair, clearly unaware she was even doing it. "Maybe. I wonder what it was though … I bet Bozer knows."

"Probly does. You gonna ask him when they call? Cuz I am sorely tempted."

"No way, Jack! He'd never forgive us for digging into his past like that! If anybody ought to know, it's you! Mac hates—"

"What does Mac hate?" Mac croaked, and shifted so he could sit up.

Riley pulled her hand back like it had been burned. "I…."

Mac glossed over it by dragging his own hand through his sweaty hair. "No word from Phoenix?" came out as barely more than a whisper.

"Not yet," Riley said, then hit her lip. Jack gave her an encouraging nod. "When they do call … what are you … I mean … I could…."

Mac flashed a small smile and cleared his throat to be more audible. "I appreciate how you get protective a lot more than how Jack does, but—."

"I ain't protective. You guys just—"

"Bullshit!" Mac and Riley both fake-coughed simultaneously, then cracked up.

"Come on now!" Jack began, but Mac just waved like he had more to say so he stopped.

"But …" he repeated. "There's no keeping this quiet. Even if I'd rather not deal with Oversight's 'I told you so', I'm going to have to."

Jack handed him a bottle of water. "And why would he say that?"

"Because Steve already told me I'm probably gonna need to have my tonsils out and I started fighting with my dad about that when I was five." He took a swig of water and grimaced. "And right now I'm kind of wishing Little Angus hadn't been so stubborn and also that my mom hadn't sided with him."

"Something tells me there's a story here," Riley said, slightly teasingly, so he'd feel free to blow her off if he wanted to.

Mac sighed. "One of my clearest memories from when I was little was waking up sick. And both of them … Mom and Dad … were looking at me like … I don't know." He frowned. "I don't remember the emergency room. But I do remember my dad holding me the whole time." He swallowed hard, and it wasn't the pain in his throat that made it stick. "He hardly ever did that. And afterward." He stopped like that was the end of the sentence.

After a minute, Jack prompted, "What happened afterward?"

Mac sat quietly, his brows drawing together.

Riley hurried to say, "You don't have to tell us about it, Mac. We know you don't like talking about this stuff."

Mac smiled slightly. "It's okay, Ri." He glanced at Jack who he'd told little things about his family. Jack gave him an encouraging nod, too. "Afterward was the first time I remember them having a fight."

"Them fighting was unusual then?" Jack asked carefully, obviously thinking that anyone in their right mind would probably fight with Oversight all the time.

Mac nodded, taking another tentative sip of water. "They were gone on each other. At least … that's how I remember it. But … my mom … She hated to see me upset. And my dad was … Well, you've met him."

"I'm not sure I follow, Mac," Riley said softly.

"I keep dreaming about it," he said like he was admitting to murder. "It started tension between me and my dad. Because I don't think she ever let it go." He dragged a hand through his hair again.

"Sounds like heavy stuff," Riley said a little awkwardly.

Mac nodded, thoughtful.

"Thing about heavy stuff," Jack said with a gentle lilt, "It tends to get lighter when you let people help you carry it."

"Mmmm," Mac mumbled like maybe he agreed. After a minute, he opened his mouth, poised to share a piece of his past with them, before he had to face it anyway, but the phone buzzed. Mac's hand darted out to pick it up before Jack or Riley could, his look of relief at the interruption almost comical. "Hey, Matty. Got us a way out?"