A/N Okay, this is kind of an intense chapter, guys. Just sayin'. LOTS of h/c, as promised. But seriously intense h/c. At least it was for me when I wrote it. I'll let you all be the judge. ;-) Either way, I hope you enjoy! Thank you, fanotheboyz for reading this over for me! :-D

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mac was thrown backwards from the blast, slamming into the wall behind him. He staggered to his feet, staring in horror at the charred floor where Frankie had been sitting just seconds earlier! He felt the rage build up inside him but, knowing that Murdoc was once again listening, Mac simply fell to his knees, bottling up the scream that was threatening to escape!

Gritting his teeth, digging his fingernails into his palms, he shook with the effort to keep everything safely buried.

"Come now, MacGyver! I went through so much trouble to make all this happen. Don't I, at least, deserve an agonized scream? Perhaps a tear streaming down your cheek?"

"Archie almost has the trace locked, Mac," Catherine said softly through the comm. "Just another minute."

His breathing was ragged even to his own ears as he fought for control.

"Look up at the camera," Murdoc taunted. "I'll even let you catch me and put me back in prison, if you just let me see the devastation in your eyes, MacGyver."

"No, you won't," Mac forced out on a breath.

Murdoc laughed. "You know me too well, MacGyver. You're right. I won't. But, come on, for old time's sake, just one little peek?"

In response, Mac squeezed his eyes shut, keeping his head downcast so that Murdoc would not be privy to any of his pain.

"Now, I have successfully killed every. Single. Person. You care about. Well, except for Riley and Bozer, but that's just a matter of time now. Even if Riley pulls through the operation, I still have contacts in L.A. who would be more than willing to deliver some flowers on my behalf—maybe inserting a little air bubble into her IV while they're there; you know, to make the trip worth it 'n all. And Bozer? Well, you know, he has to go home sometime."

Through all Murdoc's goading, and his own anguish, MacGyver mentally sorted through the murk and came to a realization… Murdoc didn't know that Jack had been rescued. But, how could he not know? They had kept the story out of the news in true Phoenix fashion, but he must have been watching the video feed. Right?

Then again, Murdoc hadn't been the one to show up when they dug up the coffin. Nikki had. She'd been the one monitoring the video? Once again, Mac's heart stuttered over the memory of shooting Nikki. But there was no time for that now. Shoving his emotions even further down than he'd ever done before, Mac finally looked up at the camera. However, the expression on his face was not the one Murdoc would have been expecting.

"Why are you smiling?" the sociopath asked. Then he giggled. "Have you finally lost it, MacGyver? Are you completely and utterly broken?"

"Jack's not dead," Mac said simply, only allowing Murdoc access to see the true joy he felt at knowing his best friend had not been one of Murdoc's victims.

A long pause was the only response he received. "Have you lost it, Murdoc?" MacGyver asked, returning the taunt in an epic home run hit. "Oh, wait, that happened a long, long time ago, didn't it?"

"You're lying," Murdoc insisted petulantly. "Jack has to be—!"

The statement was cut off by muffled action in the background. A few expletive curses from Murdoc made it through the speakers.

"We got him," Warrick declared over the comm two minutes later. "He's in cuffs and being carted back to prison as we speak, MacGyver. Good job, man."

Mac tuned him out as soon as he heard 'We got him', pulling into himself where it was quiet. Safe. Private.

Jack reached into the duffel of clean clothes, no doubt provided by MacGyver, and extracted a pair of black jeans and matching t-shirt. Bozer told him Riley had finally woken up and had even asked for her rig to be brought to her; kicked up a fuss when the doctors and nurses objected, too. That alone told Jack that she was gonna be just fine. He smiled lopsidedly at the fact that the hospital staff had no idea who they were dealin' with, if they thought they were gonna be able to keep that girl away from her laptop.

Nick watched his cousin pull the jeans up over his boxers, grinning softly at the fact that he had kept his go-to fashion sense after all these years. Then the CSI quickly sobered. "There's more, Jack."

"I know, I'm listenin', but I also wanna be ready to go as soon as the doctors release me."

"Who says they're going to?"

"I do," Jack told him firmly.

"Fair enough," Nick said, using a phrase he likely got from his cousin all those years ago. "I did my best to get him to eat, mostly by guilting him into it, to be honest."

Jack nodded. "Most of the time, a little bit of creativity is needed to get that kid to take care of himself."

"Tell me about it. Sleep is another matter, though. Short of sittin' on him, I couldn't force him to get some sleep."

"Yeah, because he bottles so much up, it tends to leak out into his dreams, causing some pretty messed up nightmares from what I can tell. He does his best to avoid sleep when he's under this kind of pressure." He cut his eyes to his cousin as he removed the hospital gown and slipped his t-shirt over his head. "You're leadin' up to some major occurrence here. So? Out with it."

"You said that you know Nikki Carpenter is dead."

"Yeah. Did Murdoc kill her, too?" Jack asked, saying aloud the only thing he could think of that could have resulted in her death. Man, Mac must be devastated.

"No," Nick told him, matter-of-factly. Knowing now that the young woman had been MacGyver's girl made this revelation all that much more difficult to make. "Mac did."

The whole ride back to the hotel, Jack couldn't stop thinking about the poor kid who had been through so much in such a short amount of time. "You're sure, he's at the hotel?" he asked.

"That's where Warrick and Catherine dropped him off after…" Nick's voice trailed off as he pulled up in front of the hotel entrance.

Poor Frankie, Jack thought grimly. This time, her death was for real and, with everything else that had happened, his blond genius was likely to be a broken mess. On the inside, at least. Because Jack had absolutely no doubt that Mac had already slid his 'I'm fine' mask firmly into place… a skill the kid was quite adept at; mind you, Jack had his own skills—including a well-honed one that enabled him to see past any mask his young partner chose to don.

Nick followed Jack into the lobby, trying to figure out how to break one more thing to him. He had to know everything in order to get through to MacGyver, but this was going to seriously break his cousin's heart.

Jack gave him a quick one-armed hug. "Thanks for takin' care of my boy, Poncho," he said, ruffling Nick's short hair with one hand.

Blushing, Nick said, "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"Never gonna happen," Jack said, offering up a soft grin because that was all he felt capable of giving, then turned to trot over to the elevators.

"Jack, wait," Nick said suddenly, realizing that his time had run out. He couldn't put it off any longer. Waiting for his cousin to turn back to face him, he said, "There's something I haven't told you yet."

"Aw, man, what else did Murdoc do?"

"This one wasn't Murdoc," Nick told him gently. "At least, not directly."

"Then, who?" Jack demanded, impatiently. He needed to get to Mac. "Nikki?"

"No. You."

"Me!?" Jack exclaimed, heatedly, taking a step toward his cousin, fists clenched at his sides. "I would never, never hurt that kid!"

"Not in your right mind, no. But, when we first got you out of that coffin, uh… Mac hugged you, and you…"

"I pulled away," Jack muttered, dragging a hand down his face as the fragmented memory came crashing down on him. Then he said a string of words that would've made both their mother's blush. "I was messed up, man. After being in that cramped space for all that time, I woulda pushed away one of Hef's Playboy bunnies!"

"Don't tell me," Nick said, pointing to the elevators.

"Right, yeah," Jack said, turning back for the elevators again.

He had a broken partner to find.

Jack stepped off the elevator, pulling his room key out of the front pocket of his jeans. The sound of a door closing brought his gaze up and, lo' and behold, there was the object of his search standing just a dozen or so feet away.

Further inspection had Jack's brow arching. Mac was carrying his duffel bag in one hand. The kid was so exhausted, he hadn't even noticed Jack's presence yet. So, taking full advantage of the situation, the former Delta Commando darted behind the closest corner at the intersection of the two hallways which created a sort of elevator alcove. Then he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a forced casual in his posture.

He watched Mac step past him and press the Down button to call an elevator. "Goin' somewhere?" Jack asked.

MacGyver literally jumped, then spun around to face the source of the voice. "Jack!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing out of the hospital?"

"They had to release me sometime, didn't they?"

"AMA?" Mac asked, sudden doubt eating up the alarm in his gaze.

"Nope," Jack grinned. "Got the doc's approval and everything!" He didn't see any reason to mention the decision was made under threat of bodily harm.

"Uh-huh. Under duress?" MacGyver returned, deadpan.

Jack cocked his head to the side in confusion, then understanding seemed to dawn. "Nah, man. My nurse was the equivalent of Nurse Ratchet—besides, even the pretty ones wear those surgical scrub pants now," he lamented. "Dang shame, if you ask me."

"That's not what I—" Mac shook his head, his lips quirking up into an almost smile as he and Jack seemed to drop into their usual banter… then fell again when he remembered nothing would ever be the same again. The elevator pinged to indicate its arrival. "Never mind," Mac finally said, preparing to enter the elevator as the doors slid open, only to be stopped by a firm hand on his elbow.

"You never answered my question," Jack said.

MacGyver stared at him, clearly drawing a blank. And, if that wasn't a sure sign of the kid's exhaustion, Jack didn't know what was.

"Where ya' goin'?" he asked.

"Home," Mac told him, an unmistakeable 'duh' tacked onto the end. He tried to tug free of Jack's hold but the grip was unyielding.

"Without me?"

"I'm leaving the GTO in the valet parking. I have a plane ticket booked—"

"Right, because the car is what I'm concerned about here."

"I have a plane to catch—" Mac started, watching with dismay as the doors slid closed again.

"Uh, no," Jack told him, hauling him back toward the room. "You really don't. We got some things to talk about, brother."

"I've got nothing to say," Mac insisted, hating that it seemed so easy for him to be just dragged down the hall against his will.

"Then I'll talk and you'll listen," Jack countered.

"Jack, just… just stop!" The blond finally managed to get some leverage and yanked his arm free. He stared his friend down defiantly.

"Bud," Jack said, his Delta Commando tone coming out to play for the first time in a long while. "Drunk or sober, I've already proven to you that I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to the room if I want to."

"Jack—" Mac warned, raising one hand and taking a step back in an effort to ward off any such attempt.

"Look, kid, Nick told me everything that happened…" Mac opened his mouth to respond, but Jack held up a hand to stop him. "Including what I did—or didn't do—when you rescued me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the blond mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and avoiding any and all eye contact.

"You were relieved that I was alive, and I pushed you away. I'm sorry, bud," Jack said, sincerely. "I was just messed up, man. Being in that friggin' box for so long; then the ants; I just…" Suddenly, Jack was back in the coffin, unable to escape as hundreds of fire ants stung him over, and over, and—

"Jack!"

Jack jolted back to the present. Mac's hands were on his shoulders. The kid was leaning in close, and part of Jack wanted to extricate himself from the hold, but that kind of knee-jerk reaction had caused enough problems already. Thankfully, a few deep breaths dissolved the instinct.

He stared into the concerned blue eyes of the kid who meant more to him than anyone else in the world, and instinctually knew that, if he let Mac see his pain, then maybe, just maybe, Mac might be more likely to do the same.

So, that's exactly what he did. Jack lowered his own defenses a bit, allowing his friend to see his pain, his vulnerability, even his fear. "Please," he all but begged. "Come back to the room?"

Startled by what he saw in the unguarded gaze, Mac pulled back a bit, but his hands remained on Jack's shoulders, unwilling to completely break the connection when his friend was making it blatantly obvious that he needed him. After everything that happened, MacGyver had no idea why Jack would ever need him again, but he clearly did. At least, for now.

So, although still suspicious, Mac knew he couldn't just abandon his friend and return to L.A. "You'll do all the talking?" he asked dubiously.

Jack raised his hand in a two-fingered salute. "Scout's honour."

One corner of Mac's mouth quirked. "Scouts is a three-finger salute, Jack."

"How would you know? You got kicked out, remember?"

They both headed the rest of the way back to their room. "It wasn't for lack of skill," the blond revealed, watching Jack unlock the door. "I just tended to… improvise a little bit more than they were comfortable with."

"Now, that I believe," Jack chuckled, placing a firm hand on MacGyver's shoulder and earning a flash of surprised eye contact in return. "It was their loss, man," he said sincerely, grinning when the pale cheeks tinged with pink seconds before Mac preceded him into the room.

Jack followed him in, shut the door, then turned and clicked the deadbolt into place, as well.

MacGyver cast a quizzical glance his way.

"I just don't want the cleaning crew to barge in all of a sudden, while I'm pourin' out my heart 'n soul here."

Mac visibly deflated, silently conceding the point. If their roles were reversed, and he was the one opening up, he wouldn't want an audience, either.

Stepping over to the mini-bar, Jack pulled out a couple bottles of beer. "Something cool for my throat—plus, some liquid courage," he admitted with a slight blush of his own as he handed one bottle over to his friend.

MacGyver hesitated, then accepted the beer. It wasn't going to be easy hearing what Jack went through, but he was determined to be there for his friend. This entire thing was his fault, anyway. He owed Jack so much more than just an ear to listen—this was the least he could do.

So, he sat down on the edge of one bed and watched as Jack pressed his back against the opposite wall, then slid down until his butt was on the floor. With his legs drawn up almost to his chest, he held the bottle of beer loosely in one hand, allowing it to dangle between his knees.

The former Delta Commando's gaze revealed an acute unease that Mac had never seen in him before. The deep brown eyes darted from one side of the room to the other, even looking up at the ceiling with a barely repressed panic. Mac wanted to ask if he was okay, but he got the feeling an explanation was seconds away, so he waited.

"Happens every time I close my eyes, man," Jack said a moment later, taking a long gulp of beer.

Feeling like he needed the liquid courage almost as much as Jack did, Mac mirrored him, taking a swig of his own beer. "What happens?" he asked around the mouth of the bottle.

"I'm transported back into that coffin. A couple inches of space at every side, oxygen getting thinner by the minute. I'm just thankful I got someone like you in my life, brother."

"Yeah," Mac muttered with a self-deprecating laugh. "Right."

"Yeah," Jack returned, seriously; brown eyes locking with blue. "Right."

MacGyver's eyes skirted away. Needing a distraction, he took another long drink of his beer.

Sensing that an explanation was necessary, Jack continued. "Every time I started to panic, I heard you inside my head, tellin' me how, if I didn't stay calm, I'd run out of oxygen four times faster."

"To be perfectly honest," Mac admitted. "I don't know how you didn't run out of oxygen."

"Every once in a while, a burst of fresh air came through the vent next to my head," Jack said with a shrug. "But it was always just when I started to pass out."

"Murdoc wanted to draw out the torture," Mac surmised bitterly.

"Yeah, well, I didn't give him the satisfaction of seein' me break," Jack growled, then his voice softened to not much more than a whisper. "Not until…"

"The ants," Mac finished for him, standing and moving over to sit next to Jack, not certain the close proximity would be welcome but needing to at least try. To his relief, when he sat down, Jack actually leaned over the remaining inch or two until their shoulders were touching, possibly taking as much comfort from Mac's presence as Mac had his before this whole debacle began and they'd been standing outside his father's door—seemed like a lifetime ago.

He bumped Jack's shoulder with his own, doing his best to keep his voice light as he said, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure it was Nikki watching, not Murdoc."

Jack grimaced. "It doesn't," he bit out, before continuing quietly. "Even in a room as big as this one, I feel like the walls are closing in on me, 'n I find it hard to breathe."

MacGyver placed a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder, branching into uncharted territory all of a sudden.

"Then… I feel the… the ants on me," Jack continued, voice breaking. "They were all over me, man!" That's when the tears started, slow at first, then picking up speed with every passing second.

Mac's heart stuttered a bit, then seemed to drop straight into his gut. Jack had always been a sensitive guy, but the blond had never seen him break like this before.

Extending his arm awkwardly across the broad shoulders, MacGyver let instinct take over and cinched his best friend closer. Jack's head came to rest on his shoulder, and Mac could feel the warmth of the tears as they soaked through his shirt. His partner's shoulders shook beneath his grip, sobs muted but most definitely there.

When Jack calmed several minutes later, Mac could feel the sting of more than just exhaustion in his own eyes. "I'm so sorry." The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Jack asked incredulously, scrubbing one hand over his tear dampened cheeks.

"For all of it!" Mac exclaimed, moving to stand only to be hauled back down and held in place by a stubborn former Delta Commando.

"Hold on there, bud! You have got nothing to be sorry for; you hear me?"

"Come on, Jack! It's time to read the writing on the wall!"

"Yeah? And what writing is that?" Jack asked, still keeping a firm grip on Mac's arm, not giving even an inch of leeway.

Mac laughed, but there was none of the usual humour in this grating sound. "Do you really need me to spell it out for you?"

"I guess, I do, kid."

"Everything Murdoc did was to get revenge against me! And, my dad?" His voice broke on that part but he plowed ahead because Jack needed to see who was to blame! "My dad only agreed to his part in the whole thing because, in his own misguided way, he thought he was protecting, yup, you guessed it—me! Frankie… " he said, voice breaking again, "Frankie wouldn't have even been a blip on Murdoc's radar if it weren't for me! And Nikki? This was just her warped way of getting closer to me! No matter how you look at it, it all comes back to me!"

He watched Jack put his beer down on the floor. He had no idea he'd even been crying until his friend reached out with his now free hand to wipe away a few tears from his cheeks. He flinched away from the touch and attempted to get up again, but Jack wouldn't allow it. MacGyver growled inwardly, banging his head back against the wall in frustration. "Jack, please, just let me go!" he begged.

"No way, man. That's not how friendship works. It's not how family works. You need to deal with this, and I am not gonna let ya' deal with it alone!" He paused a moment to let his words sink in. "Now, tell me what happened with Nikki," he prodded gently. "You shot her?"

"She was going to shoot you," Mac said, as if feeling the need to defend his actions. "Besides, she's the one who set this whole plan in motion," he added incredulously, choosing anger because it was so much easier than the other emotions fighting to take centre stage.

Jack made sure to fill his next words with all the sincerity he felt in his heart. "None of that changes the fact that she was your first love; that you still loved her right up until five minutes before you shot her," he said softly. "And I'm so sorry you were forced to kill her to save me."

The last statement had MacGyver's attention whipping around to face him, a hardness to his gaze that Jack had never seen in those blue orbs before... and hoped he'd never see again. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat," the kid swore vehemently.

Jack nodded, accepting the pure devotion with the gravity it deserved. "And what about your dad?" he probed carefully.

This time, Mac was finally able to tear himself free of Jack's hold. He lunged to his feet, then stumbled a bit, doing his best to ignore the wave of dizziness and nausea that tried to consume him.

Remaining where he was for now, Jack watched his friend closely. "Nick told me how Murdoc made you watch what happened… while he listened!"

Mac started for the door. He needed to escape. This was not a safe conversation. Suddenly, Jack was in front of him, blocking his path. MacGyver tried to pass but his friend sidestepped him with little effort. With another growl of frustration, Mac shoved him back angrily, then changed course, heading further into the room instead. "My dad helped Murdoc kidnap you," he declared. "He drugged me, then held me prisoner to keep me from saving you!"

"He was still your dad," Jack countered sadly. "Besides, Nick told me Murdoc tricked him. You said it yourself, your dad was trying to protect you. I won't fault him for that."

MacGyver whirled on him now. His eyes flashed with a new kind of blue flame, but Jack could still see the shards of the kid's broken spirit swimming in their depths. "Yeah? And who was protecting Riley? Who protected Frankie?"

"Riley is gonna be fine, Mac," Jack told him, happy to be able to give him some good news amidst all the tragedy—and kicking himself for not doing so sooner. "Bozer says, she's even insisting on someone grabbing her rig from the Foundation." He saw the sincere relief flicker in the kid's eyes. "I only wish I could say the same about Frankie, man," he said softly. "I'm so sorry about all of this. And for not being there for you."

Mac laughed bitterly again, and, man, did Jack want to get rid of that particular sound once and for all. "You wouldn't have been able to do anything," the kid told him.

"Maybe not, but I coulda been there!"

"It wouldn't have mattered. You were one of the victims, Jack. You almost died. None of this was your fault."

"And whose was it, Mac? Yours? Not a chance, brother! If anything, you're the reason I lasted as long as I did!" Jack took a few steps toward his partner now, ignoring the silent plea practically emanating off the kid for him to stay away. "Not one second went by when I didn't know that you would find me in time, and that all I had to do was hold on until you got there!"

That was when the room chose to tilt on its axis and spin around MacGyver like a tilt-a-whirl, giving him no choice but to go along for the ride. This particular dizzy spell was caused by pure exhaustion, stress, and having no appetite for the past three days, eating only enough to keep himself standing because the nightmares were just too potent. That said, the beer probably hadn't helped much either.

He stumbled forward, and suddenly Jack was there to catch him. A strong arm banded across his chest; another stretched around his shoulders and back. Their primary purpose was to steady him, but Mac sensed the comfort being offered, as well. He pushed urgently at the hands, managing to stumble away a few steps before Jack caught him and wrapped his arms around him again. He felt the hand card through his hair, and was abruptly reminded of when is father had done the same thing the day before.

"You need to rest, Angus." Then: "Please. I just don't want you to die, son. I'm begging you. Stay with me."

Mac yanked himself free. He hauled his fist back and punched 'his father' square in the jaw… then he froze. Abruptly realizing it was Jack he had just punched, not his father, MacGyver's eyes shone with emotion.

Jack recovered quickly. MacGyver was exhausted, deprived of both food and sleep; the punch hadn't really packed all that much of a, well, punch. Jack's gaze found the blond in question, and he saw the blatant guilt in the blue eyes.

"Mac, it's okay—"

But before he could finish, the kid ran for the door again. Jack couldn't let him leave the room, not in his current state of mind. He raced after him, arriving at MacGyver's back just as the lock was disengaged and the door was opened a foot or two. The blond took one step out into the hallway—

Jack grabbed him by the shoulders, hauling him back into the room. He promptly slammed the door closed, locked it, and once again placed himself between it and his partner.

MacGyver's eyes darted from one side of the room to the other, much like a caged animal. He had to get out; he had to get out; he had to get out! Then the scream Mac had bottled up for so long erupted from deep within, threatening to bring him to his knees with its intensity. Guttural. Primal. Pent up rage, agony, and tears, all mixed together to make one highly combustible genius.

In fact, the hoarse scream was so unsettling, it almost had Jack rethinking his methods. Almost. But instead, he stepped forward and enveloped the kid in a bone crushing embrace, holding him tighter than he'd ever thought possible. Wanting desperately to absorb some of that pain.

"No!" Mac yelled, shoving at Jack's chest even as the first sob tore free. He folded over in an almost physical pain, feeling like he was being ripped apart from the inside out. He made one more desperate attempt to pull away, but the plan backfired as his and Jack's legs got tangled, bringing them both down to the floor in a heap—with MacGyver sprawled in his friend's lap!

The blond fought to sit up, to get away, but his limbs wouldn't obey his commands! Then he felt Jack's arms close around him, pulling him back against his chest. He pushed with all his might to free himself. It was too much—it was just too much! If he fell apart, he may never recover again.

As soon as they fell to the floor, Jack had seized the opportunity for what it was. Ignoring Mac's struggles, he gathered him into his arms, no longer allowing him to hide from the tidal wave of emotions he was valiantly trying to keep inside. The kid was literally vibrating with the effort to hold everything in, reminding Jack of another time when his partner had been suffering, although that had been from a physical ailment as opposed to emotional.

Forcing himself to remain in the present, because Mac needed him in that moment more than he ever had before, Jack cinched the kid closer, tucking the blond head beneath his chin and wrapping him up tightly in his arms.

"Don't!" Mac demanded, voice muffled by the fabric of the black t-shirt stretched across Jack's chest. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can, kiddo. Just let me be strong for you for once. This much pain would break any man, brother. You hear me? But I promise, I'm not goin' anywhere this time! Okay? I'm right here. Murdoc is back in prison where he belongs, and I'm not goin' anywhere!"

"Please, Jack… it hurts too much!"

"You're always so friggin' strong, kid. You saved my life more times than I can count; helped me through my own trauma just a few minutes ago! Please, bud, please let me help you this time!"

Another sob tore free, but with Mac continuing to struggle against his hold, Jack knew it was more about the kid losing the fight, than it was about him accepting the comfort. And that right there broke Jack's heart.

"Just let go, bud! Let it go!"

Trauma of this magnitude could only be contained for so long before it finally demanded release. And, it would seem, Mac's multiple traumas were choosing that very moment to demand their release. Jack was just relieved he was there to help his friend through it—whether said friend wanted the help or not!

Yet another sob wrenched itself free, followed quickly by another. Jack pushed the sweat soaked bangs off Mac's forehead, pressing his jaw against the fevered skin, feeling the kid's wet gasps against his neck. "I gotcha, bud. I gotcha."

Finally giving in, accepting defeat, Mac drew his knees up to his chest, his shoulder braced against Jack's sternum. As another sob tore out of him, he folded forward again, Jack's left knee and arm the only things preventing him from landing face first into the carpet. He was mortified at the way he was clinging to Jack seemingly for dear life, but he no longer had the energy to stop himself. He just couldn't take it, anymore! His body, heart, and soul craved the comfort—even as his mind balked at the very notion of being held, cradled like a child in his best friend's embrace!

Jack didn't try to shush him. He actually didn't say anything at all. He just held on, intuitively knowing that that was what the kid needed just then. Actions speak louder than words 'n all that, and Mac needed more than anything to know that he wasn't alone. That he never had been, not since meeting Jack in the desert—and that he never would be again!

So, Jack cradled him against his chest; he alternated between carding his free hand through the sweat soaked bangs, and cupping the kid's jaw and the side of his neck, rubbing and massaging to ease those muscles. After a few minutes, he even started rocking him a bit.

When the tears finally subsided, more than an hour had passed and, with the pain at least somewhat abated, exhaustion stood front and centre. Before Jack knew it, the kid's weight pressed heavier into his sternum, and he had an armful of sleeping genius.

Knowing that his partner needed sleep to help with the healing, Jack didn't want to wake him for fear that another breakdown would be imminent. If tears were necessary, Jack would be there for his friend; but as healing as the tears were, they were also exhausting the poor kid.

So, with that in mind, Jack readjusted his hold. Slipping one arm beneath Mac's knees, and the other below his shoulders, he heaved the kid up into his arms, then rose to his feet and traversed the short distance to the beds.

Setting Mac gently down on the mattress, Jack covered him up with blankets from the other bed. He dragged one hand across his own scalp, then down his face, before staring down at his young friend for a long moment. After the last few days, Jack didn't really want to be away from Mac; and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual, even if the kid would never actually admit it.

So, with that thought in mind, instead of walking the few feet to the second bed, Jack kicked off his shoes and climbed over Mac, falling asleep on top of the covers almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A few hours later, he woke to Mac tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling non-sensical words. Only half awake, Jack wasn't sure what to do.

"Jack?" Both query and plea wrapped into that one sleep-slurred word, and it simultaneously broke Jack's heart in two, and helped him to recognize what action was needed.

Without wasting another second, he slipped one arm beneath the slender shoulders, and lifted, gently easing his young friend over until the blond head was laying on his chest, his own stubbled chin resting against Mac's scalp.

The kid struggled at first, prideful even in slumber, but Jack just added his other arm to the embrace and kept a firm hold of him until he slipped back into a deeper sleep.

As he drifted off to sleep himself, arms still cocooning the slender form, Jack couldn't help but smile when he realized the nightmare that had been terrorizing his friend just moments earlier seemed to have disappeared almost immediately.

TBC

A/N 2 The previous 12 chapters made up a long and winding road whose sole purpose was to reach the h/c destination that you just read! :-) So, I really, really hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! There will be one more chapter to tie up lose ends but, other than that, this is it, folks! :-D Was it worth the ride? ~Kelcor