The ride into Garden Grove in separate cars gave Jack a much-needed chance to check back in with Mac again. "How you holdin' up, Mac?"

Mac opened his mouth to answer but Jack stopped him in his best parental parody, since he thought what Mac really needed more than anything else was a moment of levity.

"And if you just say I'm fine again, I swear I will pull this car over and turn it around and head straight back to Phoenix."

He got what he wanted, since Mac chuckled. "I'm … can't say I'm fine, which I totally am … hmmm … synonyms, synonyms … well, acceptable, satisfactory, okay, good, reasonable, adequate, sufficient … functioning within expected parameters?"

Jack laughed. "Alright, smartass. Now tell me how you're doin' really," Jack prompted as he made another turn.

Mac shrugged and looked out the window. "Sore, tired, pissed off, kinda hungover … sick of Murdoc's shit. But also basically fine, all things considered, Jack." Mac looked at him with a sincere expression. "Really. It's good to be out here helping."

"Makes sense to me," Jack said. He didn't point out that scared as hell was still pretty high on the list of what the kid was feeling, and he wouldn't. But it made him glad he'd just pushed for Mac to be able to be out here on the field team, helping bring Murdoc in, or at least throw a monkey wrench into the jackwagon's plan. Captivity had a way of making you feel out of control, feel violated, and torture … well, that added some not so great layers to an already complicated psychological mess.

Mac had never been one for therapy, but maybe this time, Jack would make some headway with that particular suggestion. The look in the kid's eyes said this was going to make flashbacks from the war look like a stroll on the beach.

However, Jack did notice that as they approached their destination and there was something to focus on other than himself, how he was feeling, and what happened to him, Mac's game face was firmly back in place. His previous slightly pained and tentative expression was replaced with one that was mission ready, and also filled with compassion for the man whose life they were about to flip upside down because somehow, in some way, like Mac, he'd run afoul of a killer, quite possibly by simple association.

That expression stayed firmly in place until everything went completely sideways. Then Jack saw the expression come back the reassured him that no matter what went down from here on out, no matter how many nightmares or bad moments his partner might have because of his time underground with Murdoc, the kid was going to be fine.

In the midst of the chase, firefight going on around him, Mac got that half-grin while he worked on solving the problem that said he was, in spite of everything, having a little bit of fun, and part of him, even if it was a small part, just wanted to know if he could beat the other guy.

When the rest of the team arrived and were batting cleanup, Jack was tying up the loose ends on Tactical and Cage was preparing the prisoner for secure transport back to Phoenix. Mac just stood in front of the vehicle, eyes scanning the scene, mind turning over the situation like a worry stone.

When Jack came around the front of the tactical vehicle saying they were ready to clear out, they were finally alone. Mac knew now wasn't a great time. But he also knew they were going to be tied up at the debrief for hours, and that heaven only knew whether or not Matty, or Jack, or Dr. P or some diabolical combination of the above including all of, would insist on another trip through Medical before they let him go home for the day since no one had really officially discharged him to begin with. He would do this properly later. Over the fire pit. With food and beer and a real talk about what exactly was behind all the bullshit he'd pulled lately. But he couldn't hold onto it anymore.

Knowing his voice sounded too tight, he went ahead anyway. "I should've said this earlier, but I'm sorry."

Jack wasn't about to tell the kid about his drugged-up heartfelt apology earlier. Not because he wanted another apology, but because Mac would be embarrassed that he'd let himself be so vulnerable. So, he just smiled a little. "For what? The whole 'lie to your best friend and put yourself in danger for no good reason thing?"

Mac was so agreeable, Jack just reaffirmed his commitment to being there for Mac, then he teased him a little about the helicopter parenting thing again. And reminded him, feeling himself getting a little choked up, though he hadn't meant to, that that was what families were for.

Both men sensed that this was a conversation probably better left for the privacy of Mac's back deck and lightened it up a little, though they both knew they weren't finished. The they just climbed into the transport. Cage chose to ride along with the apprehended assassin to assess his body language, facial expressions, and anything he might say for later use, and Jack chose to drive, knowing Mac was still not feeling one hundred percent.

For his own part, Mac felt back on top of things, but the five-point harness, that feeling of restraint, was making him uncomfortable, fidgety, well more fidgety than usual. It's not like he was ever still. Jack actually chided him a few times for playing with his seat belt like a little kid, "Leave those damned buckles alone, Mac. What if we flipped this thing?"

Mac had gotten to a place where he couldn't tolerate being confined to the seat anymore right before he RPG hit their transport. In fact, he thought later, that it might have been worse it he'd still been in the harness.

He wouldn't have been looking where he was if he hadn't been unhooking himself, if he hadn't been about to ask Jack to pull over so he could have a minute outside the vehicle to get on top of an unexpected surge of panic that a rusty metallic smell from the floor had caused. He wouldn't have called out a warning to Jack who braked and made a slight course correction that minimized the damage to the front of the vehicle where he and Jack were.

Cage was okay. She knew she was okay the minute the vehicle came to a stop. She didn't feel great, but she had some bruised ribs from the round she'd taken earlier. Her head felt fine. She cut herself free from her harness to start helping her teammates and making sure the prisoner was secure. But somehow, he'd picked the lock on his cuffs. With what? she thought to herself furiously.

When Murdoc approached the vehicle she went still, well, almost still, her hand started to move slowly down her leg to find her back-up piece. She wouldn't give the bastard a reason to hurt them, but if he made a move, she's happily splatter his brains all over the pavement if she could manage it.

Jack had already cut himself free of his harness, despite a pounding head and freely bleeding temple. If Mac thought he'd met helicopter dad Jack before, he hadn't seen anything compared to the lecture he was mentally preparing as he extricated himself from the rubble of the vehicle.

Who takes of a harness, mid-transport? Ugh! Jack was furious. Then he slowed himself down. Someone who was tied up and tortured that's who, Jackass. When he pulled himself free he had a moment of complete irrational panic.

Mac's eyes were closed.

Then Jack got painfully to his knees and checked Mac's pulse. It was slow and steady. Just down for the count, that was all. Jack got on his radio and Matty had unit deployed to their area almost immediately. Jack could hear the whump-whump-whump of the helicopter blades so fast it skewed his sense of time.

Jack and Cage, both with their fair share of aches and pains, but no real injuries and no real issues heading into this afternoon, teamed up, committed to the same goal for the first time to free Mac from where he was trapped under the bent metal that had been the structural integrity of the cab.

He groaned a little when the levered the bar off his already bruised ribs, but never made a sound when they freed his feet. Then they waited. When the various ambulances got there to take them back to Phoenix, Cage went along with the medics with no argument. Jack was a different story. He fought tooth and nail to travel with the still unconscious Mac. He also got in the way of their treatment of his zonked-out partner. Finally, Matty had to be called.

"Matty, tell 'em no," Jack insisted.

"You're a medic now, Dalton?" Mattty asked almost sternly, just wanting what was best for her people.

"No, but I have enough training to know he'll be okay until we get back to HQ, just like I will be, and bein' in a little box, stabbed in the arm, all out of it and hurtin' … It's not …"

"Not good. Okay. Everyone in the medical transport, stand down, barring a code. I've got med staff on standby that hopefully won't trigger our boy. Get him here. A-Sap."

0-0-0

Mac attempted to bolt upright and reach out and tear at the poking in his arm. When he was unable, it wrung a pained, almost animal noise from him. Somehow restrained and loud, panicked and subdued, pained and resigned to whatever was happening to him.

"Hey, hey, now," Jack said, sitting up in the stiff recliner next to the bed, and leaning toward him. "There you are. I was real worried for a little bit."

Mac didn't even hesitate, didn't relax or tense, didn't struggle or release. He just made eye contact with Jack. "Let me go."

Jack nodded. "Of course."

Jack got up moving slowly, clearly more than a little dinged up himself. Mac could count about fifteen stitches over Jack's eye that he'd be taking out in a week or so since Jack wouldn't come back in to let staff do it. Mac hated Medical because he had strong associations about his childhood, about his mom. Jack was more complicated, but Mac just didn't ask. He assumed it was valid and tried to help.

God, a god he didn't even believe in, he hated this place so much. When Jack had released him from all the Velcro keeping him immobile, Mac looked at the IV in his arm with something resembling dread. Then, the part of him that had kept him obeying the rules in the Army, for DXS, and for Phoenix be damned, he pulled it out of his arm gasping slightly when that stung more than he thought it would.

Mac pressed his hand to his inner arm. "Well what'd you think would happen?" Jack asked, half irritated, half amused.

Mac shrugged, blood squeezing between his fingers. "I just want to go home, Jack." His eyes narrowed for a minute. Jack had maybe been hurt in Murdoc's onslaught, but he at least had his clothes. "Please take me home." He took a shuddering breath. "I just want to talk. But not here."