Between Jack's snoring and his own inability to stop turning the mission over and over in his mind, Mac hadn't dozed off until maybe an hour or so before sunrise. And it hadn't been a restful slumber. His dreams had been above average levels of rotten.

He'd been trapped in that sarcophagus where Farhad's men had locked them while they were making sure as many student protesters as possible were funneled toward the national museum.

And in the dream, when they'd broken out, instead of just jumping them again and tying them to the rearmed dirty bomb, Farhad had taken out a gun and shot Jack right in front of him. Then he'd leveled it at Mac and pulled the trigger.

So, when one of the nurses shook him awake, it took a legitimate effort not to actually growl at him. Instead, he blinked at the clock across the dim room. "It's only 6 am." He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to ignore that in addition to exhausted, beat up, and headachey, his chest felt itchy and ached where he'd gotten sliced up, and his leg was kind of throbbing. "Why?"

The guy whose name was Andrew according to the print on the pocket of his scrubs, just gave him an apologetic shrug. "Because that's how time works?"

Mac took a deep breath and tried to respond in a tone that wasn't as irritated as he felt. "You know what I meant. Why are you waking me up at least an hour before anyone in their right mind who doesn't get to go for their morning run is even looking at their first cup of coffee?"

"I know it's early. Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood by joking about it. I guess I didn't miss my calling by passing on a career in stand-up comedy."

Mac tried to tamp down on his annoyance. He was pretty sure this guy wasn't here just to piss him off, but it didn't change the fact that that's what was happening. So, what came out of his mouth was, "No, you really didn't."

"I am sorry. Really."

The nurse looked kind of nervous, which Mac actually found a little funny. So he managed to sound agreeable enough when he responded, "It's fine. Just … Don't quit your day job."

He ran his hands over his face again, trying to dispel a sliver of the exhaustion he couldn't quite ignore like he usually did. Concussion fatigue is a real pain in the ass.

"So, I gather from your chart that you're probably going to want to tell me to go to hell, but," Andrew cleared his throat. "There's orders for some routine blood work this morning and—"

Mac shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Pardon me?"

He really didn't like the tone the guy was using now, so what he wanted to say was, 'Did I fucking stutter?' but he'd have to be a lot more concussed to be that rude to anyone. So what he said instead was, "Sorry, I guess that wasn't as clear as you were expecting. I meant no."

"Listen, man, it's not my fault that—"

Mac had this conversation with staff before. He rolled his eyes, pleased that this morning the involuntary expression didn't immediately set his head pounding harder, which he took to be a good sign. "Is it related to a specific decision about how to manage my case, or is it just what you do with everyone?"

"Well, it's a standing order for everyone. It's SOP if you're admitted, so—"

"That's what I thought. So, like I said, no." He pasted on a stiff smile. "If it makes you feel better, I'll even say no thank you."

"Um … but, you see, the—"

Okay, if this guy wants it, he's going to get it.

"There's no evidence that routine blood draws contribute anything of clinical significance in-patient settings with otherwise stable patients, and there is evidence that it can contribute to increased incidence of nosocomial infection, unnecessary downstream testing and procedures, increased cost of care, iatrogenic anemia, and decreased patient satisfaction, among other things. And I'm already pretty unsatisfied, so do yourself a favor and just put 'patient refused' in my chart and let me go back to sleep until coffee exists."

"Last night, Nurse Sullivan said—"

Mac opened his hands. "If you want to wake her up and argue with her about it, be my guest."

"Agent MacGyver, I don't understand what you—"

Mac was exhausted, sore, and done being at Medical, so he interrupted. "I thought I was pretty clear, man. But I don't mind repeating myself." He did, but that was beside the point. "Patient refused. If there's as many notes in my chart as people keep hassling me about, adding that one shouldn't be too hard."

"Excuse me?"

Mac decided a little rude was okay with him at this point. "Absolutely. You're excused. Go have your breakfast or something. Or bother someone who doesn't know any better." Mac rolled over and wrapped the thin blankets around himself like there was any possibility he was going back to sleep now.

The nurse made an irritated sound and picked up the basket of supplies he'd set on the table next to Mac's bed. "I'll be sure to add that note and while I'm at it, would you like me to cover that you don't like needles so no one else suggesting something totally routine gets their head bitten off?"

Mac absolutely refused to rise to the bait by looking at the guy. "You can write whatever you want, Andrew. It won't make it any more accurate or relevant than 99% of what's probably in there already." He adjusted his pillow as dismissively as it was possible to do such a thing. "And also if you've got somebody in here who really likes to be stabbed for no reason, you should probably refer them for a psych eval."

He waited until the grumbling nurse left and the door to their room closed again, then he tossed back the blankets and got out of bed.

"Goin' somewhere, Mac?" Jack asked, still sounding pretty liberally medicated, but less so than the night before.

It startled him. He hadn't realized Jack was awake, but he managed an affable grin and a shrug. "To get dressed."

"Stagin' another daring escape are you?" Jack chuckled mildly. "I mean I can't say I blame you. That kid didn't necessarily seem to know what he was doing when he woke me up and all he had to do was use this IV thingy on me."

Mac snorted. "I mean I thought about it for a minute, but since I actually work here now and I'd just as soon not get fired, I can stick around for a while. But I'm gonna be ready to get out of here just as soon as somebody with the right initials after their name and a pen walks through that door."

"Do you think you could hang around long enough for me to get out of here with you?"

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Do you think they're cutting you loose today?"

"Can't see why not. Don't want to hang around and get photogenic anemia or whatever either."

Mac laughed. He was never sure if Jack really didn't know how to pronounce things or if his partner was just screwing with him. But either way, it was often funny and today was no exception.

"Iatrogenic. It means caused by the scrubs squad." He shook his head. "You're usually a lot less inclined to push buttons around here. I'm starting to think you busting Foster in the teeth has done you a world of good. You're not trying to talk me into staying until you decide I'm not gonna die on you. And you want to leave, too? I like this new and improved Jack Dalton."

Jack sighed. "Gettin' pinched by the bad guys makes me antsy. I don't need anybody else decidin' I'm not allowed to move."

Mac looked at him for a long moment. He felt exactly the same way, but he was surprised Jack not only felt it, but owned up to it, even though it reduced his ability to fuss over Mac's injuries as much as he would typically be inclined. "I'll hang around as long as you want as soon as nobody here is going to mistake me for a patient.

"I'm not sure they could mistake you for an actual patient ever," Jack grinned. "But I appreciatecha, man."

Mac was in a pretty good mood by the time he finished showering. And it lasted until he was about halfway through shaving. He was getting a good look at his very visible bruises when something worse than the argument with some doctor or another he figured was in front of him occurred to him. "Aw, man. This is so not fair," he grumbled.

As he finished dressing, his good mood was getting harder to hang onto as he turned over the problem. He was frowning enough to bring back his headache by the time he left the bathroom. Maybe his thoughts were still a little fuzzy from getting blown up, or maybe he just didn't have enough experience to figure this out on his own.

He decided he'd better shake off the return of his bad mood or getting out of here was going to be a harder case to make. Concussion could cause mood disturbances. He was positive he was in a less than cheerful headspace due to multiple circumstances that had nothing to do with getting blown up, but he wasn't who he was going to have to convince.

So when he went back into the room, he pulled a chair next to Jack's bed and put his boot clad feet up on it and leaned back in the chair, loosely folding his arms over his middle.

Jack immediately looked amused. "And what're you doin'?"

"I want these changes to stick," Mac grinned, and actually it came pretty naturally. "So, I figured you should know how it feels when your partner does this."

Jack chuckled and shook his head. "Do I look like a smug little shit when I do it?"

"I mean, not really. More like you're trying to pretend you're not having a panic attack about me." Mac grinned again. "But not well."

"Yeah, well, you're enough to give any Overwatch a panic attack sometimes, kid. But I'd like to think I'm capable of lookin' out for ya without supervision that pissing us both off. "

It was a decent enough segue. "Speaking of panic attacks, I realized we have a problem."

"You mean other than getting attacked by a bunch of nuts with guns and explosives and a real big problem with leavin' my limbs where they belong and then blowing us up to keep things exciting?"

"I thought we weren't talking about all that?"

"Huh?"

"What happens in Cairo stays in Cairo, right?"

"Whose idea was that?"

"Why?"

"Cuz that's a real smart idea."

Mac had to smile a little at that. "They must've turned your brain right off with those drugs last night if you don't remember coming up with that."

Jack was glad they had started tapering off his painkillers overnight. His shoulder hurt, but nothing like it had before the surgery. He'd never felt anything quite like that, and the way Mac had turned green every time he looked at it had made it hard for Jack to even try to ignore it. Now, even with less meds, it was more of a dull ache. Not too much worse than the rest of him felt from getting whaled on and blown up. And he could think again, could be there for Mac again. He grinned. "You sure your head's really okay? 'Cuz I think you just called me smart, kid."

Mac took his feet down so he could move his chair closer so Jack could see he was sincere. "I know you're smart, Jack. If I didn't think you had brains, I sure as hell wouldn't turn my back on you while you're packing a sniper rifle."

""Ah, hell, kid, you don't have to be all that smart to do that job."

"That's BS and you know it. You didn't get the jobs you had before you had to, and I'm paraphrasing here, protect my reckless, skinny ass that was bent on getting both of us killed, something like that?"

"I think that might be a direct quote," Jack flashed a fond smile.

"Well, you didn't get those jobs by not being smart. It's just different than my kind of smart."

Jack's smile was almost embarrassed. He knew Mac liked him, respected him. And he'd slowly worn the kid down over the last year to letting the idea of genuine brotherly love be part of the equation, too. But he wasn't used to Mac saying anything so openly demonstrative. "I haven't ever met anyone else who's smart like you, Mac. Well, that ain't true. I had a girlfriend one time, her kid was your kinda smart, I think. Different interests, but scary smart."

"Well, right now, we need your kind of smart, Jack. Otherwise we can't get outta here, because it could blow our cover."

"What's buggin' you, Mac?"

Mac sighed and leaned back again. "What're we gonna tell Boze? The jiu jitsu accident on a work trip and you 'falling down some stairs'," Mac said with air quotes. "That flew one time. If we both show up injured again, what's he even going to … He's never gonna buy it."

Jack flashed him a big grin. "You ever gonna stop talkin' on responsibility for the whole world?"

"What? I'm not—"

"You don't have to come up with your own cover story, Mac. I mean the jiu jitsu thing was really good, but DXS keeps people's jobs under wraps all the time. You can just kick back and let the bosses worry about that stuff."

"Really? I feel like for a lot of our own cover stories, the 'our people' parts of them have all come from us."

Jack shrugged. "Oh, damn, that does hurt some now."

Mac got to his feet abruptly. "Do you need anything? I could go get somebody, or—"

"I'm good, kid." Jack didn't add that this was a sign of that taking responsibility for the whole world thing he mentioned. "You should probably sit down, man. 'Cuz if anybody comes in and sees you lookin' that much like you're about to fall on your ass, there's no way in hell you get outta here, and I'm invested. You're my ride."

If Jack had put it any other way, it might have annoyed him, but the tone and how he phrased it, just caused a flicker of a smile and Mac sat again and put his feet back up on the bed. "I don't know if I trust the organization to come up with a Bozer-proof story. You've seen how he is."

Jack nodded. He thought Bozer's protective streak made him look downright negligent, and nothing was more important to Jack than watching Mac's back. "I see what you mean. But … At least you don't need crutches this time."

Mac nodded slowly, thinking. "And he's constantly on my ass about how I'm gonna catch a cold going swimming in our pool this time of year anyway. Maybe I'll just stop trying to explain to him that's not how virus transmission works, and just not be shirtless anywhere he could catch me for a while. That scar cream worked pretty well on my leg last time. It should be a lot worse than it is."

"Besides he doesn't know we're back from Cleveland yet, so you can just crash at my place and let those bruises on your face disappear into that tan. And if he asks about the tan, tell him you went out in the snow a bunch."

"Yeah, all that should work. He knows I love snowshoeing if I have a chance. Harry used to take me up in Washington all the time." Mac felt his shoulders lower. "And neither one of us should probably be on our own for a few days anyway. I imagine you wouldn't mind having someone with two working hands around either."

"Yeah, that'd be great. You got real good at not almost burning the place down to get meals the last time you had to babysit me."

Mac laughed. "How about I be really good at ordering takeout this time?" Then he sighed and admitted, "I think I want to be one with your couch for a few days."

Jack's expression was less teasing and more genuinely concerned at that. "You … You sure you're okay to—"

"Yes!" Mac said with a slightly forced laugh and a dramatic eye roll.

"I'm just thinking now—"

Mac gave him a teasing smirk and said, "You want a ride or should I just ditch you here to suffer alone?"

Jack put up his hands, including the one wrapped up in the sling he was wearing. "Alright! I'll keep my concern to myself if you're gonna be mean about it."

"It'd literally be the first time you ever did that in your life," he laughed, and it was much more natural this time.

He got up and went to the window. Then he turned to Jack. "You want a coffee? Maybe a bagel?"

"It's way too early to bug the staff for food," Jack said with a one shouldered shrug. Although both sounded shockingly good to him.

Mac's hands went into the pockets of his jacket. "I was thinking of going up the block to the coffee shop," he said casually.

Jack had to laugh at that. "Dude, they're not gonna let you just take off to pick up breakfast right now. You kicked that nurse out and got dressed. But it's not like anyone has actually cut you loose yet."

Mac tipped him a sly sort of smile that set off all his dimples. "I wasn't gonna ask."

Jack couldn't help shaking his head this time. "You're gonna get in trouble with Thornton."

"Pffft. We got blown up because she didn't give us what we needed on this op. If she comes down on us, maybe we just say we want to talk to Oversight." Mac grinned again. "But after I get us coffee."

"Your girl's gonna be pissed."

"You see Nikki anywhere since we got back?" Mac asked.

It actually rattled him a little that she hadn't even been in to see how he was doing. He understood that she was pissed that he'd ghosted on the jet, and maybe she didn't buy that he'd just zoned out, but he had. Didn't matter that he'd decided he didn't want to deal with things before it happened. He'd gotten blown up. He understood that a lot of people wouldn't get it. But Nikki should have. So maybe she was mad at him. But he wasn't very happy with her either.

"I don't think she's speaking to me right now. And it's … Whatever. When my brain actually decides to work all the way again, I'll deal with it." He forced a grin. "We got blowed up," he said purposely using the military colloquialism they'd both used frequently when they'd met. "If she can't understand that's complicated, she's not gonna have much fun on this team, say nothing about as my girlfriend."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. He was glad the kid wasn't letting Nikki's behavior alter his, although he wasn't 100% sure that Mac should be so dedicated to leaving today, and he definitely didn't think he should take an unauthorized trip to the coffee shop. But he also got that none of that would be helpful if he said it, if only because he totally understood the impulse at the moment.

Jack realized he couldn't just not say anything though. "We got blowed up and you got sliced to hell and shot, not to mention beat to crap after being locked in a museum coffin for like half a day."

Mac waved dismissively, "Yeah, yeah."

Jack sighed. "I really want outta here … But all of a sudden it seems like a real bad idea."

Mac shook his head. "Alright, Overwatch. Elliot's back in town from his latest jaunt to Langley. What if I give him a ring and ask him to come over once in a while to keep tabs on us?"

Jack finally relaxed a little. "Onion with chive cream cheese and one of those sausage patties, then. And maybe one of those mocha things."

"Morning helping of sugar and cholesterol. Got it," Mac chuckled.

He crossed the room and peeked out the door. Then he crossed back to the bathroom and turned the shower back on. He pulled the bathroom door closed and flashed another grin at Jack. "Do me a favor and count to a hundred after I leave. Then page the nurse's station and ask for a cup of water or something."

"Why am I…"

"So they'll come in and notice that I'm not in bed and the shower's on."

"On purpose?"

"You know that Andrew guy is flipping shit to somebody about me right now. And that means somebody with a worse attitude than him'll be in any minute. So we give them an explanation for where I am that still gets us coffee and breakfast while we wait for this morning's Attending to be able to cut us loose."

"You are kinda terrifyin' when you put your mind to it to go full super spy, ya know it?"

Mac sketched a little bow. "And I'm just getting started."