Chapter 5 - Lightning Flashes

Author's Note- My own official surgery date is on the books for 11/10. I'm increasingly not happy about any of it, but I continue to feel like Hell, so I guess I don't have a lot of options. This chapter references a crossover I wrote a while back called I Do Believe In Spooks. I'm hoping to work on the sequel again soon. When I do, I may have a surprise cameo on tap. But for now, enjoy Mac suffering along with me on my unwelcome journey to zero tonsils.

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It was quiet on the jet. Riley was busy decoding the files from the cartel, since Cryptography hadn't managed to break into them yet. And Jack … Mac looked around. Jack had disappeared. Probably into the small sleeping area to crash where the clack of Riley's keys wouldn't keep him up.

Mac was currently holed up on the sofa, nursing a Gatorade and hoping Oversight wasn't in the War Room when they got back to Phoenix in a couple hours. The little bit of talking he'd done on the way to exfill had stolen most of his voice. He didn't feel too bad otherwise. But he didn't exactly feel great either.

He needed to head to Medical. He needed more antibiotics. And he needed to hear Steve out about "options," whether he much wanted to or not. Being sick this frequently wasn't sustainable for someone like him. Or for anyone really. But he wanted those things on his own terms. He didn't need Oversight involved. And he didn't want him involved either.

He sighed and leaned back against the couch cushions, allowing his eyes to close. He was almost dozing, on the edge of a dream he'd been trying to recapture for months, when the couch shifted with Jack's familiar, unmistakable weight. Before Mac could open his eyes, the back of Jack's knuckles rested on his forehead.

"We've talked about this," Mac whispered with a smirk, opening his eyes.

Jack knew the whisper was all he had so he answered at full volume, taking his hand away. "Talked about what?"

"Helicopters," Mac croaked a little louder, stopping at the one word, knowing Jack would know he meant helicopter parents and that he meant it with at least a small amount of humor.

"I thought you were sleepin'."

Mac shook his head and cleared his throat, picking up his Gatorade. "Sleeping or not, keep your chopper right on the tarmac, partner. I'm okay." He'd managed almost normal volume that time.

Jack's eyebrows went sort of up and together. The expression was very nearly amused. "Yeah. Yeah, I can tell." He paused to plaster on a teasing smirk. "Cuz you're always so up front about how you're feelin' in general. None of us ever have to guess."

"You know what I mean." He cleared his throat. "It sucks … but it's not serious."

Jack nodded, but he frowned, too."Why keep it from Oversight then?"

So Jack hadn't forgotten what he'd started telling them in a moment of weakness back in Mexico. "Like I said, we go way back with this. I'd forgotten…." He trailed off and took another swig of Gatorade, hoping it would soothe his throat enough to let Jack hear him for a minute. "I hadn't thought about it, didn't even remember it, until…."

"Until what, kid?"

"Texas."

"Texas?" Jack frowned.

"When we met your cousins. And that nut job had all those kids…"

Jack frowned. When they'd first gotten back from the little adventure his cousins Sam and Dean had pulled them into, Mac seemed to know exactly what happened. Over the course of the week that followed though, it was like … like he forgot. Or like someone painted over most of it. Mac wrote most of the events off as dreams he'd had while injured. Jack, at the time, figured it was better that way. Now he wondered. "What had you forgotten about, Mac?"

"The whole thing with my dad."

Mac didn't often call Oversight 'Dad' or refer to him that way, so it got Jack's attention. "You gonna tell me about it?" He grinned, "or you hopin' to just talk around it til you lose your voice altogether?"

Mac smiled slightly and shook his head. "I mean…." he trailed off jokingly. Then he sighed. "When I was in the hospital after … after you guys showed up and got me and the kids out of that cave, I had the craziest dreams. So vivid, I—"

His voice cracked thinking of how real his mother's comforting presence had seemed. He cleared his throat as though it was his illness that caused it.

"Anyway, I dreamed about this time I'd gotten really sick as a little kid and my parents … It really happened, but I'd forgotten about it. Mostly I remember their faces. It really freaked them out. After that, I swear I couldn't sneeze without them being convinced I needed an organ transplant." He smiled in spite of himself. The two of them together, of normal, loving times in his childhood, were rare, precious memories. "Worse than you even."

Jack chuckled, wanting to tell Mac he hadn't dreamed anything, but deciding rehashing that adventure was better saved for another day. "Well now, I guess I'll have to step up my game."

Mac fished a throat drop out of his pocket and popped it in his mouth so he could keep talking. It was better to just get this out in front of Jack so he knew what Mac's motivations were. "Don't you dare," he grinned. "Or I'll bring back Porkchop as a nickname." Jack just shook his head fondly, so Mac went on. "It happened off and on for a couple years, and when I was five, my pediatrician said I should have my tonsils out." Mac thought for a moment. "I might not have been too worried about it or even asked too many questions. I was still really young. But, my mom … she looked worried so … I asked what that meant." He sighed again. "She said it just meant the doctor had figured out how to keep me from getting sick so often, which of course I liked the sound of. Then she admitted I'd have to go to the hospital and probably even stay over night, but before I could get too worried about that she hugged me and said she'd be with me the whole time. She said my sore throat might be worse than it was then for a couple days but once we got home I could have as much ice cream as I wanted, even Ben and Jerry's which we usually only bought as a real treat. It was definitely my favorite, even though they didn't have Rocky Road."

"Sounds like she knew just how to talk to you. She didn't lie, but she didn't overwhelm you either."

"Yeah. Mom always got it. She was even smarter than my dad. She was probably smarter than me, too, but she never talked like a professor with four PhDs. She just talked like a mom."

"So what happened?"

Mac made a face like he'd tasted something bad. "My dad said, 'Ellie you have to stop coddling him,' and he proceeded to expand of what she said."

"I'm guessin' your old man didn't do such a great job explaining?"

"I wish. He explained in detail." Mac shook his head, blushing. "And I freaked out. So, my mom picked me up off the exam table like I was even littler than I was, said we'd talk it over at home, and lugged me out to the car, not even looking at my dad." He ran his hands through his hair. "I pretended to fall asleep on the way home, cuz I didn't want to talk more. Once he didn't think I was listening, my dad started that thing he does when he feels challenged."

"Explaining things to death to someone who already knows what he's going to say?"

Mac smiled slightly. "Yeah that. That's the first real fight I remember them having. It was all in whispers, but my mom was furious. She said he'd scared me for no reason by forgetting I was still a kid, and he was mad because he said I wasn't a baby no matter how much I was acting like one."

"What happened? Your mom was a smart lady. And she loved you. What made her decide you didn't need that surgery?"

Mac shrugged. "She got sick not too long after." He sighed. "It came up again a few times before my dad left, but I'd kind of freak out again and he didn't know how to handle me when I was just being a kid."

"I don't much get the idea he knows how to handle ya as an adult either."

Mac snorted. "You're right about that." Mac took a drink and grimaced at the taste of orange Gatorade with cherry menthol cough drop. "Remember when I got sick after … you know …Murdoc nabbed me to try to find Cassian?"

Jack nodded.

"Well, when I was waiting for Dr. Patel to decide what antibiotic she wanted to try and you'd gone to grab my stuff out of my office for me, Matty showed up to tell me Oversight wanted me to stay the night in Medical.'"

"Her coming down there is pretty damned unusual."

"That's exactly what I said. And she said she thought it was better to deliver the news that someone was going to have surgery in the morning in person."

"And I'm guessin' from the look on your face that went over like a lead balloon."

"You could say that. I told her the doc hadn't said any thing like that. It was a normal case of strep, and given the drainage pipe I wandered around in, say nothing about Murdoc's freezing cold, damp torture room, and him butchering my arm with that amateur IV, I was pretty lucky to get out of that week with just a little fever and sore throat." He sighed. "Then she made that face … you know the one … like she doesn't agree and says, 'Well, given your medical history, Oversight has decided it's gone on long enough and it's time to take an appropriate, decisive action.'"

"And what did you say to that?" Jack asked with another eyebrow raise.

"I told her I was sick of arbitrary orders coming down from on high and that if the big bosses wanted to start dictating shit like elective medical procedures, first of all, they could come and tell me to my face."

"And second of all?"

Mac grinned again. "Second of all, they could kiss my ass."

They both laughed, but this time Mac's was followed up with a wince. All this talking was starting to hurt and his voice was starting to fade, worse than before. "When I found out who Oversight really was, it made a lot more sense."

"And pissed you off even more."

Mac frowned. "Let's just say I'd had enough of someone taking away my autonomy and causing me pain by the end of that ordeal with Murdoc without Jim MacGyver trying to do the same thing."

"I can only imagine, kid." Jack's face was lined with regret. "I'm still so damned—"

Mac interrupted. "Don't you start apologizing for Murdoc grabbing me again. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine." He realized he sounded sharp, so he patted his friend's shoulder. "Just chill out, Porkchop."

Jack gave him a long look. "What're you gonna do if your old man finds out Matty's been covering for you and you're getting tonsillitis all the time again?" Jack asked carefully.

Mac's phone rang and he puffed out a long breath when he saw the caller ID. "I think we're about to find out." He cleared his throat hard and took a quick drink, flinching at both. Then he picked up his phone and hit the answer button. "Afternoon, sir. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Mac rolled his eyes immediately at the response.

"Hello, Angus. I wanted to call to ask how you're feeling. I was reviewing security tapes for a random inspection and saw you coming from Medical. There's no report from Dr. Rodgers during that time frame and I can't seem to catch him when he's not busy. I thought I'd go to the source and have you enlighten me."

"I … I'm honestly fine sir," Mac started.

"Angus. Let's not play those games. We're both adults. Presumably."

"Yes, sir." Mac sighed and prepared to confess.