How Wolves Change Rivers

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: Just a short Mac and Jack story because I mentioned this in my longer story Guard Your Heart and a few of you kindly asked for more, and I have a feeling we won't get much one on one with our boys this week. I love the team, I really do, but I am a diehard Mac and Jack girl, and it's my birthday, so I get to do something fun. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. This of course is set pre-series. In my mind about two years or a little longer before we picked up with the show.

RCJ

"The greatest warriors the world has known are time and patience." -Tolstoy

The ringing of Jack Dalton's phone brought him from a light doze on his couch. He reached over to the coffee table, fumbling through the pile of mail he'd been painstakingly catching up on when a classic John Wayne movie had wooed him away from the time-sucking task. Finding the cell, he grabbed the remote and turned down the volume on the television as The Duke finished off the bad guys in a hail of gunfire. The phone's flashing screen revealed an unknown number and for a moment Jack considered not answering and going back to his nap. His inability to let a call go to voice mail without a niggling sense he was missing something important got the best of him and he picked up.

"Dalton."

"Jack, are you there?"

"I'm here." Jack cleared his throat. It took him a bleary moment to recognize the voice on the phone as MacGyver's roommate. He'd gotten to know the guy better now that he was permanently back from Iraq and living in Los Angeles, but didn't realize they were up to phone tag status. The only time Bozer called Jack was when he wasn't able to track down Mac. "What up, Boze?"

"I need your help."

"What's going on, Dude?" Jack sat up, squinting at the clock across the room. He could just make it out in the glow of the television. It was almost nine. He stifled a yawn. "Where you at?"

"I'm at the Regal Cinema 14, on Olympic Blvd. In the security office."

"Let me guess, you got caught trying to sneak in your own snacks." Jack yawned, his body not nearly satisfied with the mere hour of shut eye. "You need good old Uncle Jack to come bail you out? How many times do I have to tell you kids, just pay for the freaking popcorn?"

"Something's happened to Mac."

The words might as well have been a bucket of cold water. Jack swung his legs around to the floor, all joking forgotten. "What do you mean something's happened to Mac?"

"I don't know man. I mean we were watching a movie and there was this loud bang and then he was in the floor…"

"Was he shot?" Jack's first instinct was to think gun. Bozer had said they were at a theater, but there were no safe places from psycho terrorists these days, and this was MacGyver they were talking about. The kid could find trouble in church and although he didn't know Bozer well, the guy sounded shaken up. Jack searched the area for his boots he'd kicked off earlier, thankful he hadn't changed out of his work clothes after getting back from DXS that evening.

"No. He freaked out, Jack. He crawled out of the theater and made it to the exit before I realized what was going on. He barricaded the door when I tried to follow."

"Whoa, slow down." Jack stopped the frantic quest for his shoes now that he knew Mac wasn't losing blood and being rushed to the hospital with a GSW. "Take a breath and tell me exactly what happened."

"Some friends and I were going to grab some food and catch the new Fast and Furious movie. I asked Mac to come since he was home early. We were having a good time, but not long after the movie started some kids behind us decided to get cute. You know the old gag. One of them popped a bag. A girl in the group screamed, then a few others around the theater. Most people started laughing, but Mac, Mac rolled out of his seat like someone was…"

"Shooting at him," Jack filled in, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He could imagine the scenario perfectly as Bozer described it and felt an instant pang of guilt. He and Mac had only been back from the desert for about a month and Jack had been so caught up in their new positions at DXS that he hadn't taken the time to even check in with Mac concerning how his partner was doing with the transition back to civilian life.

"Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I've never seen him like that. I came to get security to help me open the door, and I thought you might be able to help."

"Damn it." Jack started the search for his shoes again, finding one boot beneath a newspaper, another at the end of the couch. A darkened, crowded space. Loud movie. Lots of people. It was sounding a lot like the perfect storm. "You did the right thing, Dude. Where is Mac right now? Do you have eyes on him?"

"Yeah. The security guard used the cameras out back to locate him. He's in the alley, hiding between some garbage cans."

Jack could hear the strain in Bozer's voice, the way he kind of choked on the last part. He put his phone on speaker and dropped it on the table so he could pull his shoes on. "Bozer, listen to me. Whatever you do, do not, I repeat, do not let them call the police do you understand me?"

"I got it, Jack. The security guard, Lawrence is cool. I explained how Mac served in Afghanistan and Iraq. He understands."

"That's good." Jack grabbed his keys and his jacket, starting for the door. "But as long as Mac stays put you and Lawrence hang back. Don't approach him. Don't let anyone else talk to him. Are we clear?"

"We're clear, Jack."

"I'll text you when I get there and you meet me at the front." Jack started to cut the connection but took a deep breath and said what he and Bozer both needed to here. "And Boze, it's alright. Mac's going to be fine. I'll make sure of it."

Jack repeated the words he'd said to Bozer like a mantra as he broke every speed limit on the interstate, begrudging the fact that their new secretive job at DXS didn't allow for sirens or flashing lights. He was grateful however that LA commuter traffic was long gone and there was thankfully no game or event at The Staples Center. Parking was still a bitch, but Jack made a spot for his Mustang on a side street instead of one of the reserved lots, for once not caring if he might be putting his prized possession in jeopardy. All he cared about was getting to Mac.

"Jack." Bozer had followed Jack's instructions to the letter, and making it through the throngs of people met Jack just as he stepped under the brightly lit red marquee. He looked as shaky as he'd sounded on the phone, but he managed a half grin. "Man, am I glad to see you."

"Any change?" Jack asked, barely giving the older man in a security uniform standing by Bozer's side a glance before turning back to MacGyver's roommate. "Is Mac the same?"

"Your friend hasn't moved since Mr. Bozer called," the guard answered. "I understand you're an Army Captain and are very familiar with the young man in question, but are you sure you don't want me to call for assistance, perhaps an ambulance…"

"No." Jack shook his head, not bothering to correct the man's assumption that he was still in the service. "Look, Lawrence, is it? Mac's not any threat and I don't want to add any more stress to the situation. Just let me get to him and everything will be okay. No harm, no foul."

Lawrence nodded. "The quickest route is through the building and out the back."

"Lead the way." Jack patted Bozer's shoulder, offering the younger man a wink. "Let's go get our boy."

Jack didn't know exactly what he expected to happen once he and Mac were out of the Army, but finding his partner in a shivering heap amidst popcorn and crushed drink cups behind one of LA's most popular movie Cineplex's was not something he ever anticipated. His heart twisted in his chest, stealing his breath as he held up a hand for Bozer and Lawrence to hold their position as he continued on alone.

Despite the complete lack of similarity in landscape, Jack flashed back to one of his last missions with Delta. It was to one of Afghanistan's worst provinces, and one of the reasons Jack had decided his time was up and a new career was called for. Helmand was a dead man's land and one of the last places he wanted to lead a strike team, especially when the mission was to rescue a unit of EOD specialists that had been pinned down by unexpected enemy artillery while clearing the area, especially when said EOD team contained his favorite EOD and close personal friend, Angus MacGyver.

Jack made his way to stand in front of the two trash receptacles, taking his mind and run away thoughts captive. He would not let the images of the past blur with the current situation, hindering the focus and calm he needed to deal with the MacGyver of the present.

"Mac?" Jack kneeled a few feet away from his best friend. "Mac, can you hear me? It's Jack."

Jack resisted every instinct that was screaming for him to move to Mac's side, to offer some kind of shelter, a protection to the younger man curled into himself, trembling like he might break apart at any given moment. He instead stayed where he was and switched tactics.

"MacGyver!"

The commanding tone had Mac moving his hands from over his head, slowly lifting his gaze until glazed blue eyes met Jack's worried brown ones.

"Hey, Buddy. What's going on?" Jack forced himself to stay put, not sure if Mac could handle someone in his personal space. He watched as his partner blinked a few times, tilting his head as if to gauge if what he was seeing was trustworthy.

"Hey, Jack."

"You didn't tell me you boys were coming to the movies." Jack swallowed hard, keeping his voice as steady and light as possible. The fact Mac looked as frightened as he'd ever seen him, perhaps even more unsteady than he'd looked that day when Jack had lifted him out of that pit in Helmand, made the task nearly impossible but he pushed through knowing what his friend needed now was for him to be as normal as manageable. "I might have tagged along if I'd known it was a Vin Diesel flick."

"I'm sorry." Mac's voice broke, and along with it Jack's resolve to keep his distance.

"It's alright." Jack slowly inched towards his partner, staying low so that they remained on the same level. Mac was shaking from what Jack suspected was both adrenaline dump and the fact temperatures had dipped into the fifties. Mac was wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. His hair was damp, the edges clinging to his face like it did after a hard run. He was sweating and from what Jack could tell sitting in a puddle of soda and gutter run off. Neither situation helped with the cold. So Jack slid out of his jacket, grateful he'd grabbed it, and wrapped it around Mac's shoulders, trying to rub some warmth back into his arms. "We'll just catch it on DVD. That way we can have some pizza and a beer instead of overpriced popcorn and watered down soda."

"At home?" The way Mac said the word home, like some desperate prayer, tore at Jack's defenses. The look in Mac's eyes was too much like Helmand when Jack had been forced to tell him two of his team would never make it home. Half delirious, he'd begged Jack to get them the hell out of Afghanistan. It hadn't happened that night, but Jack did just what he'd promised Mac he'd do a few months later with a little help from Hammond. They were out of the desert, but escaping the war zone wasn't quite as easy as Jack hoped. The battle front was merely different.

"You bet at home." Mac was still shaking so Jack gripped one of his hands in both his, intent on getting the kid up off the wet ground and somewhere safe before Jack lost his own composure. "What do you say we head there now, Brother? You can ride with me."

"Okay," Mac replied, nodding again. He kept his eyes locked on Jack and Jack felt the weight of the trust hit him like a blowback from a blast. He tugged his partner to his feet, thankful when Mac's legs seemed strong enough to hold him.

"How about you wait here with Bozer and our new friend Lawrence and I'll bring my car around and pick you up." There was no way in hell Jack was going to force his partner to walk back through the crowds of people shoving their way in and out of the theater. He glanced over his shoulder to Bozer and Lawrence, ready for a fight if the security guard wasn't on board with his plan; but thankfully received a nod from the older man instead of any objections about protocol.

Mac had nodded his agreement and looked steady enough for Jack to step away, but when he attempted to release his hold, Mac's grip only tightened. Worse, the panic from before was awash once more in the desperate blue gaze.

"I'll be right back," Jack assured, stepping closer to his partner he added in a softer voice. "Mac, you're safe. I promise."

"How about I go get the car?" Bozer took a few steps forward, and Jack silently applauded the younger man's restraint and his offer. He glanced around Jack to grin at Mac. "Mac knows I've always wanted to get my hands on your baby. Way to go, Roomie. This may be my only chance."

"One scratch, Bozer and I will kill you." Jack forced a grin of his own, slipping his hand into the front pocket of the jacket Mac was still wearing. He winked at his partner, who was now looking a little more awed than frightened. "You're my witness he's been warned, Mac."

"Easy on the clutch." Jack handed the keys over; giving Bozer a nod that he hoped conveyed his gratitude. "My girl is sensitive."

"I'll be gentle." Bozer took the keys and with another anxious glance in Mac's direction he took off.

"I'll make sure he doesn't have any problem getting back here." Lawrence gestured to the alley entrance and followed.

When Jack turned back to Mac, his partner was shaking his head. "You never let anyone drive your car, Jack."

"That just goes to show you there's not much I wouldn't do for you, Kid." The words had rolled easily from Jack's tongue. Truth. It could shed light on the darkest of situations.

Jack wasn't sure when it had happened, maybe it had started to manifest that very first job in Afghanistan over a year before, but Mac had become more than a useful colleague in war, more than Jack's buddy, and now more than Jack's partner at DXS. Magyver was family. Jack's old C.O. Hammond might have been goading Jack when he'd cited Jack always wanting a little brother as the reason he was making Mac Jack's sole responsibility when the EOD worked with Delta but his words had ironically given way to fact. Mac was now Jack's brother in every way that mattered.

"What is wrong with me?" Mac's eyes brimmed and Jack had a swift punch to the gut reaction. The kid was tougher than most of the men from Jack's unit, including the SEAL's he'd teamed with, and to see him completely defenseless and so obviously undone was nearly Jack's own undoing.

"Nothing is wrong with you." Jack swore as a tear slid down Mac's cheek unchecked. He clenched his jaw, evoking every ounce of sheer will as he reached up and gripped the back of Mac's neck, bringing the kid closer so that their heads were nearly touching. "Absolutely nothing. Do you hear me? You're just having a bad day. That's all. They'll get better. I swear to you they will."

The words seemed to satisfy Mac, or he was just too out of it to question Jack's promise. In fact he didn't speak another word as Jack bundled him into the car and gave Bozer some directions that would bring him home a little later. Mac stayed silent the entire drive back to his house. Jack hadn't even had the heart to offer much of a one sided conversation, more than asking Mac if he was warm enough, if he wanted the radio on or off. It might have been the longest they had gone without talking, because even though Jack had learned early on that Mac often retreated to uncommunicative introspection when he was hurt or angry or worried, Jack had no problem filling the gaps with lots of words, words which he usually understood Mac took comfort in, or at least didn't mind. Tonight was different. Jack had followed his partner's lead and stayed hushed. So when Mac finally spoke as Jack killed the car in Mac's drive, it gave the older agent a bit of a start.

"I could hear their screams," Mac said. He was looking out the window so that Jack couldn't see his face when he let go of the keys and turned towards him. The kid had slipped his arms into Jack's coat during the ride, zipping the leather jacket so that he looked smaller and younger than usual. "I could smell blood and burning hair. The smoke even burnt my throat."

"It's a flashback." Jack sighed. "You were in the wrong place at the wrong damn time and it triggered one hell of flashback. It wasn't real, Kid."

"How is that possible?" When Mac did look at Jack he was frowning, as if Jack had spoken some radical proclamation disavowing one of Newton's Laws. "I'm fine."

If Mac's declaration hadn't nearly gutted Jack, he might have laughed at the kid's use of the word 'fine'. Instead he twisted the leather band on his wrist and tried to think of the gentlest way to burst the kid's bubble. "Not exactly, Mac."

"Do I have PTSD?" Mac glanced down, picking at the worn leather cuff of Jack's jacket.

"If one really bad day meant that, Dude, then a whole hell of a lot of veterans would have that diagnosis, including yours truly." Jack tilted his head, waiting for Mac to look at him again. "A person can't live in the state of alertness that we existed in day in and day out and not suffer some physiological repercussions when we try to switch it all back into neutral. War changes you, Mac. The lucky sons of bitches like us may come back physically whole and unscarred, with most of our pieces intact, but all of us come back different people. Don't let anyone tell you that just because you look the same on the outside that your inside landscape hasn't been drastically altered, because that's a lie."

Mac shifted so he was turned towards Jack, his face so damn young and earnest that Jack was instantly transferred back to their first meeting, back when Jack couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of a kid like Mac being caught up in such a godforsaken mess as the fight against terrorism. Brilliant EOD specialist be damned, Jack wanted to pack him up on the first plane back to sunny California.

"Then how do I fix it?"

This time Jack did laugh, but it was broken and held not one tiny bit of humor. "Brother, that big old brain of yours is magic. Pure and simple. But there are some things even it can't do. Things like sweep all the bad shit you've seen and done these last few years under the rug."

"But I can…"

"You can what, Bud?" Jack reached out and gripped Mac's shoulder, giving him a little shake. "Compartmentalize it? Like you did your mom's death? File it away? Right alongside your dad leaving? Or do what you always do and find a quick solution to a seemingly unfixable problem no one else has ever thought to try?"

"Maybe." Mac's frown deepened and Jack was so glad to see the stubborn scowl erase the last of the haunted look that he gave his first genuine grin of the night. He gripped the kid's shoulder again before letting his partner go.

"I wish that would work for you. Hell, I wish you could work that quick fix for both of us." Jack leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. He studied his partner for a moment, grasping for something to give, something to offer as an absolution for crushing Mac's hope. "Do you know that wolves can change the flow of a river?"

"What?" Mac looked almost as confused as he had earlier when Jack had broken him free from the hold of his nightmarish memory.

"I read this article a few months back about Yellowstone. How these scientists released this small pack of wolves into the ecosystem hoping to cut back on the deer overpopulation." Even though Mac was still staring at Jack like he'd once more proposed some crazy theory about time travel or teleportation Jack continued on. "The wolves started killing the deer alright, but they also set into motion this whole chain of events that no one ever expected. The deer started hiding, leaving the areas that they had originally overgrazed and other animals like rabbits and mice showed up to take their place, which brought hawks and foxes back to the area. Not only did the species ratios change but plants and trees grew back, which reversed erosion so that the ravines and mountain sides firmed up, moved, allowing these massive rivers to actually flow differently. In the end those few wolves changed the entire landscape of the park."

"Although interesting, and much more believable than most of the things you find in so-called magazines, I'm not seeing how this connects to the fact I just lost it in a movie theater in front of hundreds of people including Bozer and his work buddies." Mac ran a hand over his hair and sighed. "What if that happens on a mission? What if I put your life in danger?"

"Dude, that's not going to happen on a mission because we're going to be prepared the next time." Jack leaned forward again, this time catching Mac's wrist before he could start picking at his jacket sleeve once more. "And the point of the story is something my old man used to tell me all the time. The greatest warriors this world has ever known are time and patience. Those wolves started out just chowing down on Bambi, but in the end they reshaped freaking mountains."

Mac looked a bit like he did when he was trying to cipher a frustrating math problem. "So you're saying I just have to take it one step at a time and be patient?"

Jack let go of Mac's wrist and captured the kid's face in his hands so that his partner had no choice but to look at him. "What I'm saying to you, Brother, is you stay in the fucking forest with your pack and do what we wolves do, and nature will take care of the rest. The rivers will just have to adjust to you."

"Redefine normal." Mac's mouth tugged with a hint of a grin, the way it did when he had one of his many light bulb moments. Jack almost choked up with a wash of relief. "That's practically poetic, Jack."

"Just call me Tolstoy." Jack let Mac go, but not before patting his partner's cheek.

"I can think of some other names." Mac shoved Jack's hand away, sounding so much like his smart-mouthed self that Jack wanted to cry.

"Well how about you hold off on those so you don't feel bad when Bozer shows up with all the fixings for his famous homemade four cheese macaroni casserole." Jack grabbed the keys out of the ignition and reached for the door handle. "All thanks to your brilliant partner who sent him on the grocery mission and even footed the bill for the ingredients, one of which must be liquid gold according to the amount cash he hit me up for."

"You remembered the macaroni and cheese?" Jack was almost afraid he'd made the wrong call when Mac caught his arm before he could make an exit from the car, his eyes all big and bright once more. "I just mentioned it that once in..."

"In Helmand," Jack nodded. "But you were hurt and only moments before I thought I'd lost you, so the request kind of stuck with me."

That night in Helmand when Jack had pulled Mac out of the rubble of a bombed out building, from beneath the bodies of his two dead EOD team members the kid had asked for two things. Mac had wanted to go home, and he'd wanted a bowl of Bozer's amazing macaroni and cheese. Jack had been helpless to give him either.

"Hell, if I could have teleported old Boze to Afghanistan, you damn well better believe I would have."

Mac stared at Jack for a long moment, before carefully letting go of his arm while giving a slight nod. "Because there isn't much you wouldn't do for me."

"Just to clarify, there's probably nothing I wouldn't do for you." Jack nodded back, realizing that sometimes the only thing you could do for those you loved in their most uncertain moments was to give them an unchanging truth to hold onto. "Including changing the flow of a few rivers."

The end…For now.