Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews. They really motivate me. I'm thinking this story will have two more chapters after this on.

Jack felt like he'd been socked in the gut. He wanted to throw up with the weight of failure. It was his job to keep Mac safe. No easy task considering the kid almost always walked into a near death experience every time Jack took his eyes off of him. But, this time Jack hadn't been able to save the kid from some serious pain. The Delta almost regretted the quick death he'd dealt out to those terrorist. He should've made it hurt more.

Jack watched Mac's back as his shoulders shook, obviously crying. He debated with himself a moment on whether or not he should leave the kid alone to be miserable in private. Not a chance. This little bomb nerd with the stupid hamburger name had saved his life and Jack was a firm believer in leaving no man behind.

"Bud, I'm gonna get you through this. You're sick and this fever is messing with that big brain of yours. I know you think the worst of me right now, but I'm gonna prove to you that you can trust me." Jack rubbed Mac's back. Up and down, careful to avoid bumping his bum wing. The younger man hiccuped and tried to wipe his face.

Jack reached for the box of tissues while keeping his hand on Mac's back. He quietly dropped it in front of him. "Now, we've been in our share of tough spots and I wish more than I can say that I'd been with you for this one. But, until you finally quit holding out on me and invent that time travel machine, we're gonna just have to get through this together." Jack chuckled. "You're stuck with me."

Jack continued to rub Mac's back and Mac relaxed under the ministrations, occasionally he grabbed a few more tissues. Every now and then he'd subtly lift the oxygen mask and wipe his nose. But, he didn't try to remove it completely. The younger man remained fairly docile throughout the remainder of the day. He only spoke when asked a direct question and usually chose to nod or shake his head. His sleep was constantly interrupted by nightmares and bouts of nausea. Jack was able to get him to drink a half a mug of chicken broth, but refused anything more than that.

"Come on, kid." Jack coaxed, he sat in a chair next to Mac's bed. "You get that fever down and we can get outta here."

Mac, who was laying with the head of the bed slightly elevated, turned red rimmed eyes on Jack. Geez, you could tell he had a fever just by looking at him. Mac shrugged his shoulders then picked his head up and looked at Jack. He pulled his mask to the side and wiped at his running nose. "Let's go."

"You hear the part about getting the fever down first?" Jack smiled.

"I'll rest better in my own bed," Mac said.

"Nice try," Jack pushed Mac's bangs out of his eyes. "Mask goes back on."

"When can I lose the oxygen?" Mac coughed.

"Probably not anytime soon." Jack answered. He'd watched medical personnel come in and out off Mac's room all day long. He'd already had his first breathing treatment to combat the pneumonia. They'd injected medication into Mac's IV port several times, took his temperature and asked him how he felt. He slept the majority of the day. Jack knew this was a waiting game.

"I'm not seeing double anymore," Mac seemed to be rallying to make a plea for checking out, which had Jack's anxiety rising. The Delta feared Mac had been saving his strength for a battle of wills.

"We're gonna play it safe and do what your doc says," Jack said firmly.

"Of course," Mac considered his next words. "But, I'm feeling better now and if you tell him you'll keep an eye on me..."

Jack was looking at the two biggest, bluest puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen. Oh no. The younger man sat up slowly and with jerky movements swung his legs over the side of the bed, frustrated with how weak he felt.

"Mac," Jack dragged out his name.

"Please," Mac's eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm really sorry about what I said earlier and I won't do it again and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Jack slowly stood to his feet, he swung Mac's legs back onto the mattress and snapped the rail up. "I'm not upset about earlier. I know you better than you think and you've been through a lot. This isn't a punishment."

"But," Mac started. He'd lifted his hand to remove the obstructing mask but thought better of it and let his hand fall into his lap. "You're guarding me."

"I'm protecting. I'm worried sick about you." Jack softly muttered. "I know you don't want to be here and the second it's no longer necessary I'll spring you. Try to look at it from my point of view."

"You would have been out of this bed after 30 minutes." Mac glared.

"Now, that's not true. Settle down."

Mac sighed, then rolled away from Jack again. This time Jack didn't take it personally. He figured Mac was working things out in his head. "I don't want any more painkillers."

"Shut up." Jack said affectionately, shaking his head.

"I mean it. The antibiotic's ok for now, but no more painkillers."

"Go to sleep," Jack sighed.

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