The call came while Mac and Bozer were bent over a sketchboard trying to decide what face they were going to put on sparky-the robot they had been working on for months. Mac had answered the phone normally, but the look on his face as he turned to walk away from Bozer sent Bozer into alarm mode. Bozer remembered the shattered panic his friend had when he took the call that told him Frankie had died. Mac turned to him, a weird look Bozer had never seen before on his face. He held out a hand to Mac's arm, but Mac turned away running his hand through his hair.

"Sorry Boze, I have to go...take care of something." His eyes had a faraway look of dread, as if he saw a disaster coming and was bracing for it.

"What's up, Mac? What's wrong?" For a second it looked like Mac was going to tell him, but Bozer watched as Mac folded in on himself.

"I'll see you at home." He said. Without another word he pivoted and almost ran from the room. Bozer followed him, but Mac could move like a damn deer when he wanted to. The doors to the elevator were closing on his friend before he cleared the hallway. Bozer began to worry about Jack and Riley. Had something happened to them? Why would Mac keep something from him? Bozer reminded him that Mac had kept his secret identity from him for quite awhile and if not for Murdoc would probably still not have told him the truth.

Bozer flicked out his phone and hit Jack's instadial.

Mac felt his gut churning as he walked into the hospital room. A familiar form laid on the bed hooked up whooshing to a life support machine. His emotions swirled, ducked and pivoted from satisfaction, to grief, to anger, to relief. He took a deep breath and walked in closer. Peter Hightower had gotten much thinner over the past few years. His hair was almost gone. Mac could still see the horrible red scar that seemed to engulf the guy's skull. He looked up as a man in a suit, two doctors and a nurse walked in. They looked like they wished they were anywhere else. Mac smiled grimly. Join the club.

"Mr MacGyver?" The man in the suit said extending a hand.

"Just Mac." Mac said out of habit. The man nodded and pulled a thick wad of papers out of a briefcase.

"I am Jason Neils, I represent the HIghtower estate, " He began, "At the passing of Agatha Hightower you were named the medical decision maker for Mr Hightower." Mac just waited looking down at Pete's body. He nodded absently, all this he knew. " In addition you are listed as sole heir to the Hightower estate.' Mac looked up surprised.

"What?" The lawyer met his gaze with his own surprise.

"You were unaware of that?"

"Yeah...give it all to charity." Mac said. The room was silent.

"Mr. MacGyver, I don't think you understand, there is substantial holdings…"

"I don't want it, give it to charity." Mac paused and pointed at the doctors. "Give it to the hospital, they've been taking care of him all this time." The lawyer opened his mouth to speak, Mac silenced him with a glare.

"Very well, "

"Let's get this over with." Mac sighed. The lawyer bent over the papers and showed Mac the hundreds of signatures he had to sign in triplicate. Mac tuned out his lawyerese and signed as quick as he could. He stood up and turned to the bed. The doctors and nurse had removed all of the equipment around the unmoving man and were standing with the awkward respect only perfected by medical personnel.

"Would you like time with…?" The shortest doctor began.

"No." Mac said. The abruptness of his voice made them look at each other. Working with fluid efficiency they removed the life support from Pete's body. It took about five minutes after that for the man to die. As soon as the doctors officially called time of death, Mac spun heading to the door. He just wanted out.

"Sir, about the burial…" Mac paused at the closed door.

"I don't care, do what you like." He said, he swung the door open with enough force for it to slam into the wall with a loud thud. He was out and almost ran out of the hospital.

He drove to a quiet park in the hills above his house. He pulled over ran into the woods and puked. He walked out back to his jeep and sat in it leaning his head back closing his eyes. Memories poked at his mind, he slammed them back into the closet they crawled around in. He refused to feel guilty, he told himself. He hit the steering wheel and opened his window trying to get enough cool air, but he still felt suffocated-like he did back then. Mac shook his head.

The sky had been sallow all day with the threat of rain and the weathermen all agreed severe storms were on for tonight. Mac had forgotten, but now felt drops hit his hand. Mac stepped outside the jeep and put his head back. The air had the electrical smell of thunderstorms and in minutes the sprinkling rain had turned into a monsoon. Mac sighed in relief as he was soaked. He felt like a high temperature was breaking in the wetness. He leaned back against the jeep unaware his legs gave out and he ended up sitting on the pavement with his knees bent. He leaned forward and crossed his arms over his knees. His hair hung in dripping strands over his face and down his neck. It felt like blood. He laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes. He took a breath losing the battle against the technicolor memories playing across the inside of his eye lids. The sharp knuckle cracking of thunder became explosions, the flashes of lightening the heat of flame…

"Mac? Mac? You still alive?" Pete's voice seemed to echo through a vast cave of pain. Mac groaned opening his eyes. He could feel hot blood running down the back of his neck. He coughed in the thick rock and dust. His hand fumbled over smaller rocks to reach for his pocket. It took a few tries but he managed to pull out his flashlight and clicked it on with a shaking hand. At first he didn't see anything but light reflected on the cloud of sediment and smoke hanging in the air. He blinked and winced as it felt like a knife stabbed through his temples.

"You are alive, cool." Pete said. Mac followed his voice until he saw a dark figure lying on his back his left side under a pile of rocks. Mac sat up and had to rest as his head spun. He felt like he was suffocating..he forced himself to breath easy. Looking around the cave he could easily see tiny peeps of daylight through the stone pile blocking the cave entrance. "Hey buddy, I'm stuck you have to help me…" Mac's eyes narrowed.

"Are you seriously asking for my help?" He rasped his anger thicker than the choking dust.

"Ok, that's fair...this is kinda my fault…"

"Kinda! " Mac's rage pushed him to his feet. "You made me come in here by gunpoint so you could kill me."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that...I don't know what I was thinking...it was just a reaction…"

"Cover your ass is what you were thinking." Mac snarled.

"I tell you I wouldn't really have done it, I was just scared. If you'd gone to the Sarge…" Mac shook his head and tried to control the urge to take a rock and cave the man's head in.

"Pete, this wasn't like when we snuck out to the tombs, you murdered soldiers !"

"Murder? That's harsh, buddy. You know I didn't mean for it to happen…"

"Just shut up!" Mac said relaxing the fist that held the flashlight. He really didn't want to break it.

"Look, Mac, how long have we been friends?" Mac turned away trying to set aside the acid emotions that shook his body, looking for a way out.

"Too long…" He muttered.

A sweaty Jack and Riley ran into the room. They had been sparring when Bozer's panicked call had come in. Jack was able to make out "something wrong" and "Mac" before he was out the door speeding to the lab, Riley on his heels. Bozer greeted them with a look of relief.

"What's going on? Where's Mac?" Jack asked.

"I don't know, he got a phone call and took off...the look on his face, Jack, I know something is wrong." Jack nodded and glanced at Riley who already had her laptop out. They both trusted Bozer's instincts especially when it came to Mac. Riley frowned and shook her head.

"I can't get GPS on him." She said. Jack scowled. That meant either Mac hadn't wanted to be followed or someone who had Mac as prisoner didn't want to be followed. Either one was not a good scenario.

"Do you're video spying thing." Riley shot him a glare, telling him it was already running. In all of five minutes the widening of her eyes told them he had found something. She whirled her laptop around. They could see a security feed from the hospital showing Mac moving toward the main entrance quickly.

"Maybe he's just there to visit a friend…" Bozer said doubt evident in his voice.

"Who?" Riley asked.

"And why wouldn't he just tell us?" Jack said. "Ri, do you have any cameras in the building?"

"Just a sec." She tapped a few buttons and they saw a camera showing Mac entering the door then cross the lobby to the elevator. Before the doors closed, they saw a look of anguish and anger on his face. They exchanged worried glances.

"Can you get a close look at the floor number?" Jack asked. Riley zoomed in as much as she was able, but the number button refused to come into readable focus. Jack heard Bozer talking on the phone. Bozer held up a finger, preventing Jack from asking questions.

"Hi there, my name is Wilt...Smith, I'm trying to reach someone there who is visiting a patient? You'll page him? Awesome, his name is Angus MacGyver, yes Angus like the cow." The following ten minutes scratched by as painful as nails across a chalkboard. "No? OK, thank you." Bozer hung up disappointed. They were silent a long minute before Riley pointed to the monitor.

"Look! There he is." They huddled over the screen to see a visibly distraught Mac walk-run across the lobby, then break into a sprint to the jeep.

"That's not good." Jack said. "Riley?" Riley continued to type. They followed the jeep through the busy LA traffic. One traffic cam got a close enough picture for Jack to make out the blank expression on his face. Jack's five alarm worry went up higher. One reason Jack always drove was Mac's tendency to get lost in his own head, especially when something was bothering him, and something was definitely bothering him. Mac looked to be on automatic pilot. Not good.

"That looks like he was headed home." Boze said relief in his voice recognizing the roads Mac was taking. There was a blind spot then an ATM camera in a small gas station just a block away from their home. They watched a long time, but no jeep went by

"The hills." Bozer said softly. Jack nodded then took a few steps away.

"Dammit." he muttered. Above Mac's house there was a warren of jogging trails and parks leading up to the Hollywood sign and even higher up the Griffith Observatory. They all knew that when Mac needed to be alone, or was working through something he would run or wander them for hours. Jack ran a hand through his hair. This wasn't the first time he had to hunt Mac down in the wooded hills. "Ok, I'll go fetch our boy genius, you guys head home in case he goes there." They nodded and took off.

Jack squinted through the blurry winshield his heart thumping. He had been looking for almost an hour and the storm had gotten worse every minute, or so it seemed. The wipers could barely scrape away the sheet of water. Jack still felt chilled from his run to his car. Had Mac been out in this? While in California the rain wouldn't be anywhere near it would be in most parts of the country, it still was not a healthy thing to stay out in. Jack slowed his eyes roving. Unable to see he opened his window and blinked away drops snagged in his eye lashes. With the recent drought and last year's fires, he normally would be excited about the rain, right now it frustrated him. Jack growled wound up his window and turned the shelby around going onto the next park parking lot.

Jack was close to panicking. It had been close to three hours and he was running out of parks. He had called Bozer and Riley every ten minutes and there was no sign of his partner. Jack breathed out in relief as he pulled in and finally saw the jeep. His relief evaporated when he got closer and saw a familiar shape sitting beside the jeep out in the rain. Mac didn't look up as Jack pulled up along side him. Jack left the car running and turned up the heat before he stepped out and over to his friend. Mac didn't look up even when Jack squatted in front of him. Jack was beginning to thing Mac hand fallen asleep. He reached out.

"Hey, Mac.." Mac's head snapped up and back into the car with bruising force, his eyes wide in surprise. Jack frowned. "Hey, bud, it's ok, We got worried when we couldn't find you...I guess we were right." Mac slowly focused on him. His lips were trembling and Jack could feel the cold, wet shaking under his hand as he put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Mac blinked and looked around him slowly as if trying to figure out where they were. Jack kept talking to keep Mac grounded. "This rain is great, huh? I'm ready to start building a yacht, but it might end up being an ark at this rate…"

"That makes no sense." Mac finally said, tuning into what Jack was saying. Jack would have been delighted if Mac's voice hadn't been completly flat, his face emotionless.

"Yeah well neither does sitting out here getting your ass frozen off." Mac shrugged looking down at his hands which figetted as if they wanted something to make or fix.

"Not that cold." He said softly. Jack felt him slipping back into the emotional quagmire. Jack felt himself start to shiver.

"Cold enough, lets get into the car where it's warm." He bent to help Mac up. Jack stopped as Mac's breathing increased and his eyes widened in panic.

"NO! I need air!" Mac tried to back up, but he was already against the jeep. Realizing how he reacted, he tried to cover it with a weak smile. "Besides, isn't it against the rules in your car?" Jack hesitated, he felt his heart sag. Mac thought leather seats, even custom made imported leather, was worth more than he was? Jack stood up, his knees cracking. HIs mind racing. He knew Mac wouldn't get into Jack's car unless the seat issue was settled. He looked at Mac's car and winced. Mac had left his window open. Jack smiled. He was betting Mac was prepared for most emergencies.

"Give me your keys." Mac handed him the keys. He didn't say anything, again sinking into whatever was bothering him. Jack crossed to the driver's side and looked in the back seat. Sure enough there in a closed plastic container were several blankets, basic food supplies and a good-sized first aid kit. Jack grabbed the blankets some water and energy bars. He quickly turned on the jeep to put up the window and locked the doors. He dashed over to his car, by now the rain drops actually hurt. He quickly covered the front seats, then returned to Mac. He bent down grabbed Mac under his arms and hauled him to his feet. Mac was full on shaking. He gave grunt of pain and his legs refused to work. Jack realized Mac must have been sitting in the same position the whole time. Not good. Jack pretty much dragged him to the shelby and worked him into the seat. He shut the door and crossed to the other side. The car seemed blessedly silent compared to the backround static of the storm. It was also heavenly warm.

Jack reached over and used one of the blankets to dry Mac's head. Jack told Mac to lean forward. Mac stared blankly out the windshield hypnotized by the wipers. Sighing, Jack gently reached over and bent him forward, his head resting on the dashboard. Jack put the blanket around him followed by another dry one. Mac slowly leaned back and Jack put the last blankets across Mac's lap and chest. Mac grabbed the blankets and pulled them around him tight. It reminded Jack of a turtle ducking inside its shell. Jack did not find the metaphor comforting. He leaned back and texted Bozer and Riley, giving Mac time to relax a litttle.

"Ok, what's going on? What were you doing at the hospital?" Mac didn't look surprised that Jack knew where he had gone. He knew they would be worried and would eventually come find him. Jack fought frustration at the idea. When will Mac realize that he didn't have to run away from his friends, his family? Mac turned to gaze out the passenger side window. "Mac? Come on, what's going on?" A long moment of silence had just about convinced Jack he would have to keep probing, when Mac answered in a soft monotone.

"I killed someone." Jack blinked. In a trillion years, that idea would never have crossed his mind, especially with MacGyver. He swallowed forcing his voice to be calmer than he felt.

"What? What do you mean?" Mac didn't turn to face him. He was watching the drips on the glass stream down like tears. Jack reached out and grabbed the younger man's upper arm jerking until Mac turned and looked at him with hollow eyes. Mac shrugged.

"Just what I said, I killed someone. Or I guess finished killing someone would be more accurate." Mac sighed blinking. Jack could see the walls going up.

"Ok, killed someone how?" Mac told him about going to the hospital and pulling the plug on Pete. Jack sat back letting go of his arm.

"Oh, man, that sucks." Jack was relieved that Mac had not had to actually pull the trigger to blow someone away. Still, Jack knew how much this must have taken out of his friend. Mac nodded and looked down. The blankness was leaving his face, but the tension wasn't. Jack knew there was a lot more to this story. He turned back to face the steering wheel and dropped the car into drive. He could feel Mac relax, a little.

"I know you feel like you killed someone, bud, but that dude was already dead, that doesn't count as really killing someone, like killing killing someone." Jack offered. Mac snorted he glanced at Jack.

"What if I was the one that caused him to be in that bed in the first place." Mac's voice was stronger and he was showing less numb trauma, but the self hatred in his voice still alarmed Jack. Jack turned onto the road leading to Mac's house, dividing his attention between Mac and the road.

"Put him there or sent him there?" Mac's mouth quirked up at the edges.

"There's a difference?"

"You know there is." Jack huffed. Mac sighed and his shoulders drooped.

"I'm not sure." He admitted softly.

"You're not sure? That puts it out of your fault, bud. Usually if you kill someone you know you killed them." They pulled into Mac's drive.

"No it doesn't." Mac said. He pulled the blankets off his lap, climbed out of the car and head to the front door. Jack swore under his breath turned off the car and followed him at a run. Jack shook the rain out of his short hair and slid off his shoes kicking them beside the rug at the entryway. By the time he got to the living room Mac had disappeared. Jack frowned at the muddy footprints that showed he went toward the bathroom. As he got closer, he could hear the shower running. Jack returned to the empty living room and started coffee. He had asked Riley and Bozer for time alone with Mac they had gone out to get food. Bozer said they'd be back and he'd cook up "a banquet of comfort foods." Jack texted them updating them then went to the closet. He always had an extra go bag here. He pulled out some clean clothes went to the second bathroom and took his own warming shower.

Mac had moved most of the rocks from Pete's lower body. He was surprised to see Pete hadn't moved a muscle or showed any flinch of pain from the bleeding, obviously broken legs. Mac looked to his face. Pete was pale and sweaty, but his gaze was steady and calm. He smiled.

"Don't worry, Mac. I don't feel anything." Mac's eyes widened at the implications. He took off his outer shirt and began to wrap the man's legs. "Oh stop pretending, will you!" Pete's shout reverberated in the closed in area. Mac flinched and sat back surprised.

"What are you talking about?" Mac demanded.

"You know we aren't going to get out of here, stop wasting time. I know you want me to die so just stop trying to be so...such a fucking hero." Pete closed his eyes. Mac stood up shaking with fury.

"Do you think this is what this is? I'm not a hero, I want to get you out here-alive, so you can get what you deserve." Mac said. To his surprise Peter laughed. He looked at Mac.

"You forget I know you, Mac." Mac stepped forward his hands morphing into fists. Pete's laugh broke off into a moist cough. Mac ran forward and went to help Pete sit up. Leaning against him, Mac could feel Pete's body shivering.

"We're going to get out of here." Mac promised. Pete's eyes met Mac's.

"Maybe, maybe not." Suddenly Mac found himself pushed back. The flashlight went flying. He heard rattling of stone being moved and scuffling from where Pete laid. Mac scrambled on hands and knees toward the swaying pale light. He spun bringing it to bear over to Pete. He froze, his breath catching. Peter was sitting up and holding his pistol pointed at Mac.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mac demanded breathing hard. The air was getting very thin and he felt more than a little sick. Pete smiled reached out with his free hand grabbing his bloody legs and moving them around to his front. At least he didn't lie about that, Mac thought. Once settled he sat back and took a deep breath.

"We aren't going anywhere." Pete said.

"You're insane." Mac snarled.

"No, I know exactly what I'm doing. Ever since we blew up that can in the Tombs, I've known we'd end up here. Well not here, but in this situation."

"What are you talking about?" Mac's hand inched behind him seeking a rock.

"I saw the same light in your eyes as I felt, the excitement, the rush of blowing shit up. Man, it gets me off!" Pete howled. Mac felt a chill go up his spine. He had not realized how nuts Pete really was. The other man coughed. It occured to Mac that if he waited Pete would just pass out. He had to keep him talking.

"What are you talking about?" Mac repeated. Pete sighed as if he was talking with a dim child.

"Mac, Mac, Mac. Look, I know you think explosions are cool. Why do you think you went into the EOD?" Mac didn't say anything trying to understand Pete's warped brain. "Why do you think we were such good friends at EOD training? Why do you think we are so good at what we do?"

"I want to save lives." Mac argued.

"Yeah, whatever gets you to sleep at night…" Pete's breathing had become much more garbled. In his surprise Mac jumped to his feet. Pete lifted the gun pointing at Mac's chest.

"You're going to kill me." Pete said. Mac laughed.

"No I'm not." He said. Pete cocked the pistol.

"If you don't I'm going to kill you." He said, a spew of blood coming from his mouth. Mac took a step back, his eyes darting in the dim light looking for cover or a weapon.

"See, I can't let you tell anyone about my little hobby…"

"Hobby! Do you even know how many soldiers you killed?" Mac roared, in one move he bent grabbed a rock about the size of a cantelope and raised it over Pete's head. Mac started to swing it down when he realized what he was doing. He stepped back sucking in air trying to calm the tides of emotions. Pete's soft laughter didn't help.

"See, told ya? No, I really don't know how many people I killed here or at home." Pete studied Mac closely smiling as the implication sunk in.

"You are crazy." Mac's soft voice showed how deeply the revelation shook him. His face crumpled with pain. "You were my friend."

"I know, that's what I'm saying." Pete sat back a sad smile, "See bud I need your help."

"I was working on getting us out of here." Mac reminded him.

"No, not getting out. I need you to kill me." Pete leaned forward giving each word a stress.

"That's not going to happen." Mac declared.

"Yes, and I'll tell you why. You can't help yourself."

"What are you talking about?" Mac said watching the gun shake.

"See, my family...well let's put it this way, it's richer than most of the countries in the first world. I can't have the story of my...hobby getting out."

"Money? That's what this comes down to?" Mac asked."You want to keep your inheritance?"

"Money? No, I don't give a shit about the money or my family's name." Pete coughed, but the gun never wavered. "I don't want my mom hurt." Pete said the last so softly Mac had to take a second to take in what the man said.

"What?" He asked in total disbelief. Mac doubted if he had ever truly known who Pete was or what he was capable of, but concern for his mother?

"I know, right? I wouldn't think a bad guy like me would love his mom or care about what she thinks but there it is. She's old and fragile, thinking...knowing this would kill her."

"Maybe she shouldn't have raised a sociopath." Mac said. Pete laughed.

"Sure, I get that...but Mac, what if it were your Mom?"

"Don't." Mac said his hand tightening on the rock in his hand. He forced his anger down but it was getting harder to do.

"Why not? Didn't you love your dear old Mommy?" Mac screamed and lashed down with the rock as hard as he could.

Mac looked down into his half empty cup of coffee.

"Damn, Mac!" Jack said softly. He leaned forward and put a hand on Mac's arm.

"I would have done the same thing! Dude had it coming." Mac smiled weakly and took a sip of coffee.

"He did, I guess. But that's not the end of the story." He finished his coffee with a slurp then rose to pour himself another one. Jack took a deep breath and sipped his own coffee enjoying the warmth. He glanced at his watch. They had been talking almost an hour. He had texted the others asking for more time when Mac had decided to open up to him. They said they would go over Riley's to make the food. Jack was suppose to text when he thought it would be right for them to come over. He knew Bozer and Riley were worried sick, but appreciated that they knew there were some things Mac could only tell Jack. Mac sat back down and slowly turned his coffee cup in circles.

"Ok, so what happened?" Jack said. Mac glanced at him, then kept his eyes downward.

"He shot me." Jack was on his feet before he could even consciously process his surprise and anger.

"What?" Mac absently rubbed the center of his chest. Jack sat down a lightbulb flashing in his memory. Mac had a small crescent shaped incision scar there. It was very faint and no one who wasn't looking for it would notice it. It was just a few inches above and to the right of his heart. Mac would never tell Jack what it was from. If it was where he was shot, he was damned lucky to still be breathing. Jack just wanted to hug his partner. Jack sat back down. Mac looked at him with a small smile. He could easily see Jack had put the two together.

"Yeah, his head was bleeding…" Mac looked down, his jaw clenched. "He actually laughed raised the gun and shot me."

"So then you finished him off? That's self defense man!" Mac again fiddled with his cup before taking a deep sip.

"No, that wasn't the end of it." Mac sighed.

Mac gasped falling back, the rock rolling out of his hand. He clutched his chest, the pain almost overwhelming. Dimly he heard Pete laughing. Oddly the other man's laughter was sad and bitter.

"I'm sorry dude, I really don't have any other choice." The man said. He slumped over. "This has to die with us…" Pete's arm fell to the floor limply unable to hold up the gun anymore. Mac felt the tunnel growing darker...he slowly came awake some time later. The flashlight dimmness told him it had been awhile. The air was barely breathable and thick blood clung to his front and arms...he glanced over to Pete. He coldn't tell if the man was alive or dead. Mac couldn't make out any sounds of life over his only bounding pulse. He focused on the gun a small plan forming. Inch by inch he dragged himself over and picked up the gun...his hand trembled.

"Do it." A barely audible voice said. Mac glanced over into the barely open eyes of the other man. Mac fell on his side, face to face with Pete only a foot separating them. He was feeling the dark close in, and it was hard to think.

"Why?" Mac rasped. He felt Pete's cool hand on his shoulder.

"Because you're my best friend." Mac blinked sure he heard it wrong.

"What...wh...what are you talking about?" He managed to gasp out. Pete smiled, his eyes sad. Again he was the Pete that had stayed up late nights watching Star Wars with Mac, Frankie, and Smitty, the Pete who had been with him the whole way through EOD training…

"I didn't mean what I said…" Pete coughed weakly blood trickling out his mouth. "E...especially about your Mom…" Realization hit Mac.

"You wanted to make me kill you." Pete nodded wincing at the pain. He smiled at Mac.

"D...damn near worked…" He said. Mac felt tears come to his eyes. Tears and a truckload of shame.

"Pete…" He began. Pete waved his hand.

"No, Mac...it's ok...you hit like a girl…" Pete broke off into a wet cough. He gripped Mac's shoulder digging his fingers in.

"I didn't mean to kill you…" Pete whispered…" not really, I wanted you to...to end it...permanently…"

"We aren't dead yet," Mac gasped, slowly pushing himself up on one arm. He closed his eyes against waves of dizziness. Pete gurgled. It took Mac a long minute to realize it was his attempt to laugh.

"Has anyone ever told you how fucking annoying your optimism is?" Despite himself Mac smiled.

"Once or twice...stuborn as a mule in glue was it you always said?" Mac braced himself and slowly moved up to kneeling. He barely contained the howl of agony ripping through him.

"You crazy son of a bitch…" Pete whispered, "you're really gonna get out of here aren't you?"

"Or die trying." Mac managed. A firm grip on his wrist made him turn.

"You can't let them rescue me...promise me…" Pete's voice was even weaker.

"You know I can't." Mac said. Pete was silent. Mac thought he was passed out or dead. Mac concentrated on each shaking muscle forcing it to move. He felt like he was working deep underwater. Then he dragged himself to the stones blocking the entrance. He paused sucking in painful breath.

"...please Mac, let me die, help me…" Pete's whisper drifted across the cave which had the air of a tomb. Mac didn't have the energy to answer, he focused on climbing over the larger boulders to one of the small openings at the top of the pile.

"I don't want to kill anybody else…" Pete revealed. Mac froze half turning. Before he could suck in enough air to answer, Pete went on, "...I enjoy it...I don't want to...but I have to….please end it…" Pete's voice trailed off into gugling gasps. Mac shook his head. He raised the gun and touched off the small packet of explosive he had made. He ducked his head but the splintered rock stung his arms and face. It was a tiny explosion, made from the remaining bullets in the gun, but it was enough to loosen several of the stones wedged into the top of the cave entrance. Grunting with pain and effort, Mac used the last of his strength to shove them outwards leaving a small opening just big enough for him to squeeze through.

"...damn...you did it...beautiful…" He heard far behind him as he pulled himself through the opening. Mac screamed in pain as he tumbled down the pile of stones on the outside of the cave. He managed to suck in a few breaths of fresh air before falling into a blackness darker than night.

"Ok, I don't see how that translates into you killing him? Do you feel that way because you couldn't go back and get him out?" Mac met Jack's concerned look with a sad smile.

"No…" Mac stood up and put his coffee cup in the sink. He stood staring out at the rain through the small window over the sink. He felt exhausted, wiped out. Mac spun and strode to the front door. Jack ran after him and stopped him before he hit the front door. "Let me go! I have to get out, get some air…" Mac said. His eyes were wild, his breathing fast. Panic, Jack realized. Mac tried to jerk free. Jack grabbed him with both arms and brought him into the living room. "LET GO!" Mac screamed. He bent and managed to flip Jack who landed on the couch.

"Dammit!" He cussed, wondering when the kid had gotten so good. Mac fled out onto the deck. Jack followed him. It wasn't raining as hard as it had been but Jack was still soaked again by the time he reached Mac. Mac was leaning over the deck. At first Jack was afraid he was trying to jump off of the deck, then he realized that Mac was puking, or trying to over the edge. Dry heaves rocked his partner's body when Jack got close enough to put his arm around him. After a few minutes, Mac let out a cough and spit. He went to straighten but his legs had become elastic. Jack managed to slow his fall to the deck. Mac seemed to land in a puddle of gangly limbs. Jack crouched beside him. Before he could say a word Mac looked at him and clung to him like a frightened cat.

"I told them no one else was in there…" Mac said.

"Shhh, easy kiddo…" Jack soothed. Mac shook his head and dug in deeper. Jack fought the instinct to flinch back.

"No...I left...I abandoned him...I wanted him to die…" Mac seemed to cave in on himself, he slumped. Only Jack's hold kept him upright. "...I wanted him to die…" He whispered. Jack saw a defeated look in his eyes. Jack grabbed his chin and forced Mac to look up. He waited until Mac slowly focused on him.

"You listen and listen to me good, wanting a man dead is not killiing him. He came out of that cave alive whether you told anyone to look for him or not. You. did. Not. kill. Him. You got me?" To his surprise, Mac laughed. It had a bitter hysterical note Jack really didn't like.

"Not until today." Mac said softly. Jack felt his heart crack. He reached out and enfolded his friend in a comforting hug. Mac stiffened. Jack held on until the kid seemed to deflate. His head landed on Jack's shoulder. Jack could feel him heave with unwanted sobs.

"He was my friend." Mac said through tears. Jack leaned his cheek against Mac's soggy hair.

"I know kiddo. I'm sorry." He held on until Mac's body went limp with exhaustion. Jack rose to standing and grunted as he hauled Mac upright. Mac wobbled like Bambi on ice. Jack wrapped Mac's arm around his shoulders and grabbed him by his waist. Mac lurched at his side, barely awake. Mac was compliant as putty as Jack helped him into dry clothes and laid him down in bed.

"I'll be right out here, kid. I'm gonna call Bozer and Riley, Bozer's been cooking buffet of comfort foods, whatever the hell that means. I'll get you when they're here."

"'Kay." Mac closed his eyes. Jack sighed. He wished that what made Mac so special-his vast intellect, imagination, and ginormous heart-wouldn't turn on him so often. He tiptoed away leaving the door open.

Riley and Bozer arrived about an hour later. They came splashing in holding bags of warm containers of food that made Jack's mouth water. Shedding their rain coats they began to set the dishes out on the table as they talked softly.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" Bozer asked softly.

"I'm fine, Boze." Mac said from the corner of the hallway. He yawned and looked bleary-eyed his hair standing up in an epic case of bedhead. He took two steps before he found himself in the warming embrace of Bozer than Riley. Mac met their worried eyes with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry…" He started to appologize.

"Don't you dare!" Bozer snapped. Mac looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hurt. Bozer's smile took out the sting. "Sometimes you are such a dummy! You don't have to appologize, just be ok." Jack saw Mac's eyes glisten with tears. Again Bozer hugged him. Riley followed suit.

"What he said." Riley said grinning. Mac smiled back, it wasn't his strongest smile but it was genuine. He ducked his head and nodded.

"Great let's eat!" Jack declared. He held up an empty plate for Mac. Mac smiled and took it. He leaned over and saw all of his favorit foods in front of him. He swallowed around a sudden lump. He looked up at the others.

"Thanks, guys...it really…" He looked down. Jack slapped him on the back.

"It's what families do, dude. Bozer's right sometimes you are a dummy." Mac smiled his first genuine full wattage smile.

"You aren't wrong." Mac said, plucking out a piece of fried chicken.