How the hell did he find himself in this position? He had left for no more than a few minutes but returned to find that his biggest secret, and probably the most important, had been blown. He had forgotten about Pete. He looked over at Jack, silently asking for forgiveness.

Jack knew Pete, or at least he felt like he did from all the stories that he had been told, and he knew that he was a man who could be trusted. He returned Mac's look with one of his own. After all, what choice did they have? MacGyver saw the resignation and reassurance on his brother's face and proceeded to explain to Pete an aspect of his life that no one had ever been allowed to know.

Peter Thornton, ex DXS agent, current Director of Operations at the Phoenix Foundation, and best friend to MacGyver was stunned. Here he had thought that he knew everything there was to know about his above said friend, including the fact that he had no living relatives, but what he was telling him know meant that that wasn't true. Mac had lied to him. Staring at him in the face, in flesh and blood, was living proof: A brother, a twin brother. Sure, he understood the need for secrecy. Mac had told him about their career choices and why they made it a secret, and it was sad, really, but he thought Mac had trusted him enough to keep a secret, especially one that hurt Mac so much to keep. Obviously, he was wrong, and that hurt him deeper than he thought anything ever could have.

"Pete, you understand why I couldn't tell you?" He knew, he understood, but it still hurt. Though, Mac's reasoning was getting through.

"Yeah…" but….

"It could have put both our lives in danger, and it wasn't my place to tell." Damn him, he was trying to be angry, but he couldn't. Not at Mac.

Jack had stayed uncharacteristically quiet, letting Mac speak with his friend, but he knew when to step in,

"Look, Mr. Thornton-"

"Pete, please." Mr. Thornton made him sound old.

"Okay. Look Pete, you're Mac's best friend. He's told me a lot about you. I know what kind of a person you are: a good one. I know that you're not one to put those he cares about in unnecessary danger if you could help it. If you could protect someone close to you by keeping a secret, you would keep it. Well, that's what Mac and I did. If people knew about our relationship, not only would it put us in danger, but the people who know as well. Mac was protecting you and me, don't get mad at him for that."

Crap, his brother was just as good at smoothing him over, as Mac was himself. There was no way he could be mad at any of them, and the pain was quickly being replaced with understanding. Both brothers sighed in relief as the obvious emotions filtered across his face. Mac really didn't think he could stand it if Pete never forgave him.

"So… twins huh?" They both broke out into grins at Pete's acceptance, and answered together,

"Yup." Pete laughed at that, glad that the mood was lightening.

"Well, I did come over to talk details with you, but seeing as you've got rare company, I'll leave,"

"Pete, don't even think about it," Jack warned, "Don't let me interrupt your work. Besides, I still haven't finished the dishes."

"You don't mind Jack?" Mac asked. He knew the case was important, but Jack was even more important, they barely saw each other and he felt that it would be encroaching on their time together if he spent it working. Jack shook his head in the negative,

"Naw, fine with me. Hey, maybe I can even help. Who knows?" he shrugged.

Sometimes, he knew, it helped to talk things through with an outsider; they asked questions that made you think, and they were a fresh mind. He also had a knack for seeing things at their simplest, and mentioning probable solutions that others haven't even considered, like the vacuum cleaner needing to be plugged in, not taken apart, or replacing the batteries in a remote, instead of checking the circuitry for a malfunction.

"Great, I'll go get my notes. Thanks Jack," with that he left and quickly headed back upstairs.

"Colonel O'Neill… Air Force?"

"Yes sir."

"Pete, I told you."

"Then, yes Pete sir," he said with a grin.

'Smart ass' Pete rolled his eyes. Mac sometimes got like this, and when he did, there was no speaking to him! Maybe this was where he got if from, 'cause it seemed like Jack O'Neill was filled with sarcasm and smart-ass remarks. He looked at Jack carefully for the first time, and realized that when you knew who it was, there were subtle differences, like Jack had his left eyebrow split by a scar where the hair hadn't grown back. The most obvious difference though, was the hair. Jack's was shorter and was well into the stages of turning gray, while Mac's was still a very light blonde. He also realized that the picture he had asked Mac about yesterday had actually been of Jack, not Mac. 'That explains his reaction.' Pete was curious to know more about Mac's enigma of a brother.

"Where are you stationed?" 'Didn't take long for him to start asking questions. Oh well, that's not Top Secret information, but still…'

"Colorado Springs."

"Yeah?" Then silence. How were you to respond to that? He obviously didn't want to give personal info. Pete didn't know how to continue the conversation, so he sat quietly, hoping for Mac to come back down soon. Jack preferred the silence to questions, no matter how innocent they seemed. Pete was smart and wouldn't buy the cover story if he asked him what he did for the Air Force. For him, questions were dangerous. But thankfully, Pete changed the topic of conversation to something he knew would be amusing for the both of them, "What was Mac like as a kid? Anything embarrassing? Baby blanket? Played with dolls? Parents dressed him like a girl?" A mischievous glint appeared in Jack's eyes as he recalled the perfect event to tell Pete.

"Where do I start? There was this one time when we were about, oh, seven where he-"

"DON'T YOU DARE JONATHON!"

Mac came bounding down the stairs, taking them two at a time, knowing the story that Jack had chosen. Jack schooled his face into one of absolute innocence.

"What?"

'Man, what horrible timing,' Pete thought. He was trying extremely hard not to crack up. He had never seen Mac like that before; he was completely different around his brother, more relaxed and at ease. 'Oh well, I'll ask Jack to tell me later.'

"Just…go do the dishes."

"On my way," and he did just that.

He returned to the kitchen to finish the task that was interrupted. Though right before he reached the sink, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on their ends. Something was wrong. His instincts were always right, and had saved his life and his team's on many occasions. He could hear Mac and Pete discussing their case, but he didn't really hear what they were talking about, he only heard their voices. Jack quickly turned and headed upstairs to retrieve his Beretta. He knew that Mac abhorred them, but he felt naked without one. He searched around and found it right where he left it on the bureau, but it was in pieces.

"God dammit Mac!"

He knew that disabling his weapon was safer when not in use, but he needed it. Thank god he could put it together in only a few seconds, even while blindfolded, so he gathered all the parts and was assembling it as he descended. His hasty retreat had not gone unnoticed. Mac had stop his conversation with Pete, and stood up.

"Jack, what is it?" he asked as Jack came down the stairs. He knew something was wrong only because Jack knew it. He was in tuned most of the time with Jack's emotions, and always had been as a kid ever since their joint near death experience. Jack always knew when trouble was coming, kinda like a sixth sense. It had come in handy many times, but it always meant that things were going to get really bad.

"I don't know," he slapped in the clip after he made sure it was a full one, "Get Pete and go out the back." He had moved towards the wall, right beside the door and window and looked out, trying to spot the threat his instincts were warning him about. He didn't immediately see anything, but that didn't mean that there was nothing there.

"I'm not leaving Jack," he should have known that.

"Me neither," Pete agreed. If only he had his gun. He didn't share Mac's aversion to firearms. He was, at the moment, useless, but that didn't mean that he was going to run like a coward.

"Mac don't argue with me, neither of you can help. Neither of you have a weapon, and this is my only one. This is going to happen real fast, no time for one of your creations."

He really didn't feel like arguing. He knew that the people who were coming were going to have guns, and despite what he thought, Mac wasn't bulletproof. He didn't want to risk having Mac there when all hell broke loose, not that he didn't trust his brother, he trusted him with his life. There wasn't anybody he wanted at his back more than his brother; it's just that he didn't want to risk losing him if he wasn't going to do any good.

"I'm not one of your soldiers, you can't order me around. I'm staying."

Jack paused and turned to look at him, he reminded Jack so much of Daniel just then: never following orders. Maybe it was his fault that no one listened to him? He could reanalyze his leadership skills afterwards; right now he had to protect his family.

"Mac, god dammit," he looked around, "get behind the counter at least, for cryin ou- MAC GET DOWN!"

He saw it happen as if in slow motion. He saw a man stand up and, peering through the site of a rifle, fire. He both heard the shot, after all, he was waiting for it, and he saw it. Mac hadn't, he was standing in the middle of the room, focused on convincing Jack to let him stay. Jack had no control over the situation, something he really hated. He let out a couple of rounds through the window, pure reaction, and threw himself at Mac. He felt the projectile hit him in the thigh, put it didn't go through his body like a normal sniper bullet would, one that was designed to kill. This barely even hurt. The impact had jarred his injured side and sent a wave of pain throughout his body, put he quickly shoved it aside, he had more important things to deal with. He rolled off of Mac and reached behind his butt to the back of his leg and pulled whatever it was out.

"What the hell?" It wasn't a bullet; it was a dart, a tranquilizer dart, "Oh shit."

He could already feel it working, the toxin spreading through out his veins quicker than normal, because his heart was pumping faster out of his anticipation of battle. Except this was no battle, it was an ambush. "Mac you neeeed ta get ouuuta heeer." His words were already slurring. Shit, it was powerful stuff; he normally didn't go down that quick. He turned towards the window, aware of the fact that Mac was starting to drag him away from it. He emptied his clip through the door, once again hoping to get lucky, because there was no way in hell he could hit his target because he was aiming at it, if he did hit something, it was by pure chance. He didn't even think of innocents getting caught in the crossfire. He just didn't want to be caught himself. He did however feel triumphant when he heard a cry of pain, meaning that one of his bullets had found its mark. 'Well, at least that's one less,' he couldn't even say it, he was too drugged. He could feel his consciousness slipping. He tried to call out to Mac to tell him not to forget to duck, but he succumbed to the tranquilizer serum that was coursing through his system.

"Pete, go out the back. Quickly! Hide in the next boat over, it's empty. If I don't make it with Jack, you've got to tell someone what happened. Tell Murphy, tell her whatever you have to, but tell someone."

"Mac-"

"Go Pete, I'll be right behind you."

And he was, right up until he got shot as well. Pete had already made it to the boat, but Jack was a dead weight, and he had more ground to cover. He was on his hands and knees pulling him by the shirt collar, not able to carry him in a fireman's carry because that meant standing up and putting themselves in the line of fire. He wasn't that stupid. Jack's Beretta's clip was now empty and useless, not that he would have shot it anyway. But Jack was right, he didn't have time to try and slow their pursuers down, he could only try and run.

"Man, you gotta lose some weight bro. You've been eating way too many pies." He had almost made it out the back, when the front door flew off its hinges and splintered into hundreds of little pieces. Two guys dressed in cliché style black stood in the doorway, pointing guns at him. He heard the thud as the dart exploded out of the barrel to burry itself in his neck. He didn't lose his hold on Jack, but fell to the deck where he was kneeling, his arms splaying out in all different directions. The last thing he heard was the confused voices of their captors,

"What the fuck? Which one do we take?"

"Both, we'll soort oout whooo's whoooo baaaack aaaaaaat-"

Everything seemed to slow down as he joined his brother in oblivion.

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Murphy is a police detective from the MacGyver TV series. She is in narcotics, but she is a friend of Mac's.