Phoenix Medical

The next day

1100

-Jack-

Jack sat on the broad windowsill, the L.A. sun warming his back, his eyes on his sleeping partner. It had been a long twenty-four hours since the exfil pulled them—and their prisoner—from Rome. He'd watched helplessly as Mac had endured numerous needles drawing blood to test for levels of toxins in his system, six different saline flushes, multiple neurological scans, and another dose of epinephrine when he started to asphyxiate once more.

They'd treated the burns along his cheekbones and wrapped his eyes almost immediately. The oxygen mask has been replaced by a nasal cannula, keeping his oxygen saturation within acceptable levels—which to Jack was code for not suffocating.

His knife wound was red and seeping, but the infection wasn't life-threatening yet, so the nurses held off on treating that for the moment in deference to the hypersensitivity pathways of Mac's central nervous system.

It had been torture to see the way the kid had fought to keep his mouth neutral, staying silent as long as possible through the pain of treating his wounds, only giving in when he thought no one was looking. Seeing his lips fold, his chin tremble, crushed something inside of Jack.

After hours of struggle, Mac finally succumbed, falling into an exhausted sleep that had been aided by a sedative after the fact. It was only then the nurses treated his knife wound—cleaning it, sealing it with surgical glue as it was too late for stitches, and re-bandaging it.

Jack stayed through it all.

Matty came by to check in when they'd first arrived, pulling Jack from the room to reassure him that they had Carina in custody and were questioning her.

"Ask her about somebody named Marco," Jack told her. "And some…giant guy who helped carry Mac inside her apartment."

"Giant. Guy." Matty repeated arching an eyebrow at him.

Jack held a hand above his head. "I'm telling you, he was huge. Like…eight feet tall at least."

"Uh-huh," Matty narrowed her eyes. "Have you gotten that head checked?"

"I'll be fine," Jack protested, flinching when he heard Mac cry out, then stifle it quickly. "I need to be here for him, Matty."

"Jack, he can't even see if you're—"

"He knows, Matty," Jack interrupted. "Trust me. He knows when I'm there."

Matty sighed. "Fine. I'll ask one of the nurses to treat you in his room, but you're getting checked out."

"Fine." Jack started to turn, then paused. "Wait, Matty." He took a slow breath. "I know Oversight was tracking him the whole time. I know he set him up in that apartment in Rome."

"Jack, I don't—"

Jack held up a hand. "You don't have to say anything, I get it," Jack nodded, closing his eyes briefly. "But, you need to know that Mac knows, too. He knows his dad…set him up for this Op."

Matty exhaled slowly, looking down. "Jack, you can't believe that he knew what Carina was planning."

"I don't know what I believe there," Jack replied. "Carina didn't know Mac had been sick in Nepal, so…she hadn't been tracking him. However she got her information, it was after he arrived in Rome."

Matty nodded. "I can use that."

"I know you can," Jack smiled. They both winced at a sound of pain emanating from the room behind them. "I'm going back in there."

"He's going to want to see Mac," Matty informed Jack, causing him to halt mid-step.

"I can't stop him," Jack replied. "But I won't let him hurt that kid more than he already has."

"I know, Jack," Matty replied. "Go on. Take care of our boy."

Some surgical glue and a few more butterfly bandages later, Jack's head had indeed been examined. A CT scan was recommended and he promised to get to it. At some point. He answered the cognitive and vision tests to the medical staff's satisfaction, and he wasn't nauseous, so they let him go with several stern looks and a warning that they were going to add the scan into his chart.

Surprisingly, Carina had done a decent job dressing his leg wound—the nurses cleaned and bandaged it anyway, but declared it infection-free. He was given crutches and instructed to stay off of it for a few days. Acquiescing, he sat on the broad windowsill, legs hanging free, and watched his partner sleep.

He almost didn't notice when James MacGyver entered the room. James didn't acknowledge him, so Jack held still, realizing that he was just enough in the shadow of the room that the other man hadn't seen him. It gave Jack an interesting vantage point; the man was unguarded and almost human in this light.

James regarded Mac's sleeping form for several minutes, reaching out at one point to shift some of Mac's blond hair from his forehead, his fingers trailing over the bandages wrapped around Mac's eyes. For a moment, Jack could see the father lingering behind the operative, a man who truly did care about the pain his son endured.

Then James sighed, and sank slowly into the chair situated next to Mac's bed. "You never did things the easy way, did you?"

Jack felt uncomfortable, as though he was intruding on a private moment. But then Mac stirred and Jack couldn't bring himself to move. He held his breath, waiting.

"Angus?"

"Dad?" Mac rasped, his body tensing with the word.

James exhaled. "Hard to tell when you're awake with those bandages on."

Jack frowned.

"You should try it from my end," Mac replied.

Jack smiled.

"Son, I'm…."

You're sorry, Jack thought toward the other man. Just say it. Two little words. It won't kill you, I promise.

"I'm glad you're back," James concluded.

"In L.A.?" Mac asked.

James looked puzzled. "No, back with the Phoenix."

Mac swallowed, then rolled his head to the side, his bandaged eyes angled away from his father and toward where Jack sat, unnoticed.

"Only reason I'm here is because your mission went sideways and about killed me," Mac replied. "I never agreed to come back."

James narrowed his eyes. "You brought in the scientist and the Syntac."

"That was all Jack," Mac replied. "I was basically just trying not to suffocate."

James was quiet for a moment. "He's a good agent."

"He's the best you've ever seen, and you know it," Mac said, his head rolling once more toward his father's voice. "I know you want to fire him."

"He was insubordinate, Angus," James replied, his voice weighted as if the words caused him pain. "How can I allow that among my agents?"

"Pretty sure you'll figure something out," Mac muttered, shifting uncomfortably in the bed, gasping as he did so.

James stood up, bending toward his son. "Are you in pain? Should I get a nurse?"

At that, Jack felt rather than saw Mac still. "Do you know what happened down in those catacombs, Dad?"

James straightened. "I've read the preliminary report."

Mac reached up and began to pull at the gauze wrapping around his head, covering the bandages over his eyes. Jack wanted to call out and stop him, but James beat him to it.

"Wait, don't do that!"

But Mac was on his own mission. He pulled the bandages free so that his red, blistered skin was visible to his father, his blue eyes staring vacantly in James' direction.

"It was dark down there, but…not like this. This is like…like black eating black. All tunnel," he swallowed, "no light."

James' shoulders sagged.

"I was there because you put my best friend in danger," Mac pointed in his father's direction, bandages gripped in his hands. "They beat him up and stuffed in a burial shelf and if I hadn't been there to find him, he would have died. And you knew that."

Jack shivered in reaction to both the memory and the devastation in Mac's voice.

"I did not know they would—"

"Bullshit," Mac broke in. "You gambled on it. You made sure I was in Rome right when you needed me to be there and you made sure I would have no choice but to follow." His voice trembled, his hand shook, but he pushed forward. "You may not have known I'd get dosed with the Syntac, but you were ready for it."

"No, I—"

"So, you're telling me it wasn't you who told Matty about the epinephrine?" Mac challenged.

James was silent.

Jack felt his heart shake against his rib cage. Mac was angry. More than he remembered ever seeing before.

Don't push him, he wanted to warn James. He has the power to crush us both. He may be shaking now, but don't take that as weakness.

"I didn't go into those tunnels for you," Mac informed him his hand falling onto his lap, his head dropping back against his pillows. "I didn't come back here because of you." He closed his eyes. "I did it because of Jack."

James nodded, rubbing a hand through his hair. "You're wrong about one thing."

"Yeah? What's that?" Mac asked, not opening his eyes.

"Jack isn't the best agent I've ever seen," he dropped his hands into his pockets. "You are."

Mac swallowed and opened his eyes. "And instead of investing in me, nurturing me, you decided it would be better to abandon me."

"I was always here, Angus," James protested. "I told you, I was—"

"Watching over me, yeah, I remember," Mac bit back. "But you know what? So has Jack. Only difference is, he's never left me alone. Not once since the moment you paired us up."

"At least you give me credit for that," James huffed.

Jack wanted to close his eyes. Mac might have been a flight risk before, but now he was a hair trigger. If he had been stronger—if he'd been able see—Jack was absolutely certain James MacGyver would be nursing a sore jaw right now.

"It's not credit I'm giving you," Mac replied, a muscle along his jawline bunching. "You want me back so bad? Make it worth it for me."

Jack's eyebrows bounced up. His boy was a mercenary. This was new.

"You want…a…a raise?" James blinked in surprise.

Mac closed his eyes. "No," he sighed. "I want to choose my own missions. I want to choose my own team. My decisions, Dad. Not yours."

James was quiet for several heartbeats. Long enough Jack wasn't sure he was going to respond. Finally, though, he sighed, tugged on the bottom of his jacket and nodded.

"I'll think on it," he replied.

"You do that," Mac returned.

"In the meantime…you just…just heal up, okay?" James patted the side of Mac's bed awkwardly, clearly having been told about the hypersensitivity. "I'll check in on you later."

Mac didn't reply, but Jack heard him exhale slowly when James left, closing the room door behind him.

"You just gonna keep lurking over there?" Mac asked.

Jack grinned, sliding off the edge of the window ledge and limping forward until he was next to Mac's bed. "How'd you know I was there?"

Mac lifted a shoulder. "Old Spice."

Jack dragged the chair around to the other side of the bed so that he could be next to Mac and still keep an eye on the door. He sank wearily into it and lifted his wounded leg up to prop on the bed.

"How's the leg?"

"Eh, got me a couple new scars," Jack replied. "I'll be okay."

Mac was quiet long enough Jack wondered if he'd fallen asleep.

"You were going to stay," Mac spoke up, startling Jack.

"Stay where?"

"In the catacombs," Mac revealed, blinking his eyes open, and staring in Jack's direction.

The redness had faded, the blisters scabbing over and making him look a bit like a boxer with wounds around his orbital bone. The most disconcerting thing was the emptiness that Jack saw there. Everything Mac felt was held in his eyes. The way his brain crackled and sparked like a live wire, the humor, the pain, the joy, the disbelief…Jack needed him to heal up.

Needed to be able to figure out how he felt about something because he was able to read Mac.

"When your leg gave out, and I couldn't go forward on my own," Mac remembered, "you were ready to just…stay."

Jack nodded. "I wasn't going to leave you behind, kid."

"I know," Mac's chin trembled. "Scares me a bit. What you're willing to do. To keep me safe."

Jack smiled softly, bouncing a gentle fist on top of Mac's curled hand. "You're my boy, Mac. You go kaboom, I go—"

"Kaboom," Mac finished, swiping gingerly at a tear escaping the corner of his eyes.

"Get some sleep," Jack suggested.

Mac closed his eyes, then opened them again right away, his lips parting to take a quick breath. "You gonna be here when I wake up?"

"Always, bud," Jack promised, a sad smile relaxing his features.

At that, Mac seemed to sink into the bed, his breathing deepening and evening out.

Riley came by to visit, quietly hugging Jack and handing him a new phone with a knowing grin. She caught him up on Matty's progress with the Italian scientist.

"Looks like this Marco guy was actually Marco Russo," she told him softly.

"Wait, why do I know that name?" Jack frowned.

Riley grimaced. "He works in the lab," she reminded him. "He helped us set up the system we used to ping Mac's location."

Jack snapped his fingers, then covered his own hand with a wince, glancing over at Mac. Still asleep.

"That's right," he whispered. "He was the guy Jill was crushing on!"

Riley nodded. "And it just so happens that he's Carina's brother."

"No way," Jack whispered.

"Get's better," Riley told him with an arched brow. "Marco is the reason the Syntac pinged Jonah Walsh. Looks like Walsh had nothing to do with this, but Marco used the 'known associates' connections to build his little ring of mercenaries and scientists."

"Why?" Jack exclaimed.

Riley shook her head. "Haven't gotten that far, but…Matty's not done."

"Matty is going to have a field day with security when this is done," Jack sighed.

Nodding in agreement, Riley watched Mac for a moment, then curled up on the windowsill behind Jack with her laptop and earbuds, and settled in to wait for Mac to wake up.

Bozer was next.

He brought Jack a cheeseburger, folding up the ends of the take-out bag to keep the spare burger semi-warm, and chilled out on the other side of the window sill. With basically his whole family surrounding him, Jack felt pretty relaxed himself, his leg propped up on the bed, happily scrolling through Twitter on his new phone, when suddenly Mac shot upright with a shout.

The three others in the room jerked in surprise.

"Mac?"

Mac was gasping for breath, ducking and swiping his arm at something in front of him as though avoiding a hit.

"Mac, you awake, bud?" Jack stood, moving so that he could grab Mac's shoulders.

Mac flinched violently back and stared at Jack as though he didn't recognize him—and that's when Jack noticed his pupils. They were smaller, not blown wide as they'd been for the last three days.

"Oh, shit," he breathed. "Bozer, go get the nurse."

"Can't you just use the little—"

Mac cried out, this time in real fear, and swung a fist, nearly connecting with Jack's jaw.

"Bozer, just go!" When Bozer had left, Jack turned his attention to Mac, dropping his voice. "Hey, bud. Listen to my voice, okay? It's not real anymore. It already happened."

Mac pulled back to the corner of the bed and the rail, the blanket tangled around his legs, the nasal cannula pulled loose and hanging around his throat, a sound like a low moan slipping out between parted lips.

"What's going on, Jack?" Riley asked.

"His vision's coming back," Jack told her, climbing up on the bed and reaching once more for Mac's arms.

"That's…good, right?"

Mac reached up, shoving his hands into his hair, grabbing for breath. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Jack tilted his head toward Riley. "Except it's…kind coming back with a greatest hits reel from the whole time he was blind."

"Oh, shit," Riley whispered, stepping out of Jack's periphery.

"Jack," Mac panted, reaching for him and curling his fingers in Jack's sleeve. "There's a…a gun and a long…long dark tunnel…."

"Easy, kid," Jack soothed, folding one leg beneath him and letting his wounded one hang off the bed. He rested a hand on Mac's shoulders, letting Mac grip his sleeve as tightly as he needed to, his other hand against the bed rail, as though for balance. "You're safe, okay? You're good."

"Ah!" Mac winced and pressed one hand to the side of his head, not ready to release Jack quite yet. "My head is like…it's…buzzing."

"Buzzing?"

"It's the paralytic wearing off," said a new voice and Jack shot a look over his shoulder to see the doctor who'd treated Mac earlier walk through the door followed by Bozer and James MacGyver. "His ocular nerve is basically coming back online. Disorientation is expected as is—"

"Ah! Son of a bitch!" Mac gasped, releasing Jack and clutching both sides of his head. "What is that? It's…God it's like a…a vice in my eyes!"

"Can't you give him something?" James demanded.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, but any kind of sedative or pain killer will delay the process—"

"No," Mac gasped, pressing his hands tighter to the sides of his head. "No, Jack. NO."

"He can take it," Jack said, glancing at the doctor. "Let him ride it out."

"He's in pain!" James protested, his face a fist of misery.

Jack leveled a gaze on the other man. "This is nothing," he replied. "He can take it."

"Nnnrrrggg," Mac growled, his teeth clenched. Jack could see sweat beading on his upper lip, rolling down the sides of his face. "There's a gun and…she's gonna…she's gonna shoot me, Jack."

"She doesn't, bud," Jack reminded him, watching as Riley moved to stand next to Bozer, both of them watching Mac with pained expressions.

The doctor disengaged the oxygen and watched with careful eyes, ready to intervene if Jack's prediction became inaccurate.

"You're safe, Mac," Jack continued. "You're home."

"Fuck, Jack, it's all…it's all jumbled up and—ah!" He jerked back with a cry that startled the others in the room. "Jack, I can't…there's too many…."

He was blinking rapidly, as though trying to focus on images spinning through a movie projected on high speed. His eyes were watering, one hand half-way extended, the other curled against his side, his breathing rapid to match what was no doubt a racing heart.

"Too many…." He began to pale, his body swaying in the bed.

Jack reached out and grabbed his shoulders, balancing him. He felt Mac's hands reach up instinctively to latch onto his arms in response.

"Hey, hey, Mac," Jack demanded his attention. "You look at me, bud. Right now. At me."

"Agent Dalton, he won't be able to see clearly until the ocular nerve—"

"Just," James spoke up, quieting the doctor's protest and surprising the hell out of Jack, "let the man work."

"Mac," Jack continued, reaching up to cup either side of Mac's face, bringing the kid's blue eyes forward. "You look at me, now."

"Jack?"

"There you are," Jack smiled.

Mac continued to blink rapidly, his eyes watering, tears balanced on the edge of his lashes. "I keep seeing it all, like…like it's now, not then."

"I know," Jack nodded, keeping his hands in place. "Tell me why that is."

Mac swallowed, blinking hard and then opening his eyes wide. "Disruption…," he gasped, trying to pull out of Jack's grasp as another vision of another memory shot across his vision.

"Angus," Jack said softly, choosing to ignore the way James MacGyver flinched and focusing instead on the way Mac stilled. "Tell me why. You can do this."

"The S-syntac disrupts the pathways to…to the ocular nerve. Brain cataloged everything I saw."

"That's right, there you go," Jack smiled. "It's not real, man. Not anymore. You made it out. We made it out."

"Not real," Mac repeated, tightening his grip on Jack's arms.

"That's right," Jack soothed, easing his hands away from Mac's face and resting them on his shoulders.

Mac shuddered, closing his eyes with a groan as pain cut through him. Jack felt his body tremble as he flinched back, seeing memories even with closed eyes.

"There's a green light," he murmured.

Jack nodded. "You were smart and grabbed some glow sticks," he reminded Mac. "Saved my bacon. Again."

"And…c-cars…like a lot of cars and a m-market and—" he surged forward with a gasp, eyes wide. "Carina." His gaze skipped around the room. "She st-stabbed me in the leg—"

Jack tightened his grip on Mac's shoulders. "That was me, bud. Epinephrine, remember?"

Mac blinked rapidly, nodding, the sweat slipping to his eyes and tenting his lashes together. "She was tied up," he said, swallowing. "On a chair in a…a strange room." He narrowed his eyes as if trying to focus on something. "That…was you. You tied her up."

"After you pulled your Daredevil ninja move and disarmed her," Jack reminded her. "Wait until you see that bit," he grinned. "From my viewpoint, it was kind of awesome."

Mac closed his eyes, swallowing hard, his skin draining of color. "Feel sick," he confessed. "It's moving too…too fast—"

The doctor moved quickly and handed Jack a basin while Jack eased Mac to his side, a steadying hand on the back of his neck as the vertigo won a battle. Luckily, Mac hadn't eaten much in the last forty-eight hours, so all that really came up was bile. Riley handed Jack a cup of water and Jack handed it to Mac to rinse out his mouth.

"Well, that sucked," Mac muttered, easing back against his pillows.

"Maybe keep your eyes closed?" Jack suggested.

Mac shook his head, blinking them open, then screwing them shut once more. "'s the same, no matter what. Just a whole bunch of…weird images of buildings and tunnels and guns and…you. There's a whole lotta you."

Jack grinned, his shoulders easing as Riley chuckled in sympathetic appreciation. Mac's fingers were moving restlessly against the sheets in a motion Jack remembered from the catacombs—the way Mac scrambled for a grip on his shoulder. He stretched out a hand and felt Mac latch on to his wrist, wrapping his fingers tightly around his arm.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jack saw that Riley and Bozer were standing together at the foot of Mac's bed, their eyes pinned to Mac, watching worriedly. James was back at the doorway, having remained silent since his last intervention. The doctor was reading one of the machines, a ballpoint pen clutched between his teeth.

Mac swallowed hard again and Jack reached for the basin, but Mac shook his head.

"It's…slowing down," he said. "Not…not as bad."

Jack nodded.

"I'm good, Jack," Mac informed him squinting as though trying to focus. "I can do this."

Recognizing Mac's habitual need to heal on his own, Jack sighed. You don't have to do this by yourself, kid, he wanted to say, all-too aware that the reason for this habit was standing behind him.

"Atta boy," Jack started to lean back, pulling his arm away, but Mac surprised him by reaching up lightning quick and grabbing his wrist once more.

"Not yet," he breathed, closing his eyes. "Just…I mean, it's not as bad, but…it's still kinda…messed up."

Atta boy, Jack repeated, silently. He looked over at the doctor, who nodded.

"Agent MacGyver," he said, watching as Mac blinked his eyes open, tracking over to the voice, focusing on the man. "Are you able to see me?"

"You're…you're upside down," Mac squinted. "So bizarre."

The doctor smiled. "That's normal. Until your ocular nerve fully recovers and your brain catches up with your eyes, things will appear…bizarre." He checked Mac's pupils, then his oxygen saturation, and replaced the nasal canula. "I suggest you get some rest. I imagine things will look different after some sleep."

"Literally," Jack commented with a small laugh.

"Hurts too much," Mac shook his head. "Can't sleep."

"As it seems you're past the first hurdle," the doctor said, glancing between Mac and Jack, "I could offer you a sedative. It shouldn't delay the ocular regeneration."

"Yeah, okay," Mac nodded, shifting a bit in the bed, still holding on to Jack's wrist.

Jack watched as the doctor injected something into Mac's IV, then watched as the kid let his eyelids fall slowly closed, seeming to sink deeper into the bed as his grip loosened and his hand fell lax, releasing Jack's arm.

Jack slipped off the bed and turned to Riley and Bozer. They looked exhausted, both visibly relaxing as Mac sighed in his sleep.

"You two go home," he said. "Bozer…how about you just do a quick sweep of Mac's place so it's all good for when I take him home."

"You got it," Bozer nodded, then followed Riley out after she'd said her goodbyes.

Jack looked at where James stood near the doorway. "You want to stay?"

"I don't think he wants me to," James replied.

Jack's eyebrows bounced up. "Huh. Thinking about what he wants. That's new."

James shot him a look. "You're on thin ice, Dalton."

"Yeah, I know," Jack nodded. "You do what you have to, Sir. But I'm not leaving this kid."

"Even if he comes back and you're fired?" James challenged.

Jack smiled. "You fire me, no way he's coming back," he replied.

James stared at him for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then he sighed and looked back at his son. "I know." He turned, clapping a hand on Jack's shoulder. "You have two weeks. And I expect you back, no matter what my son decides."

James reached for the door handle.

"He loves you, y'know," Jack said softly. "Tore himself up inside trying to find you."

James looked at Jack, then let his eyes rest on Mac's sleeping form. "I know," he replied quietly, then left the room.

Jack sighed. "Sorry, kid," he said, sinking heavily into the chair next to Mac's bed. "I guess you can't choose your family."

"Yeah, you can," Mac whispered sleepily.

It took a full forty-eight hours for the Syntac's effect to fully wear off.

After a full night's sleep, Mac woke to an upside-down world, the incongruity of it giving him multiple attacks of vertigo until he just kept his eyes closed unless the doctor came in to test his vision. He got sick twice more, both times with Jack prepared, and they were starting to worry about dehydration, increasing his saline IV drip to compensate.

Riley arranged for a more comfortable chair for Jack, since he stubbornly refused to leave Mac's bedside, and the doctor allowed it since the one time Jack had acquiesced to their insistence that he go get some rest, Mac woke up from a nightmare in a panic, unable to pinpoint where he was with his world literally upside-down and his memories wreaking havoc on his sense of balance.

The minute Jack stepped back into the room, Mac stilled, and the nurses relaxed. From that moment forward, no one asked Jack Dalton to move away from his partner. Despite occasional bouts of restlessness, Mac cooperated as the doctors worked to rid his system of the Syntac. The only thing he couldn't really stand, Jack noticed, was having the room completely dark. They simply kept a light on at all times, even though Mac mostly had his eyes closed.

He could still tell.

The doctors informed Mac that he was lucky—his compromised lungs, coupled with the amount of epinephrine he'd been given in a compressed amount of time could have resulted in fatal respiratory distress. Mac had simply nodded, taking the breathing treatments, suffering through the hypersensitivity, and patiently waited out his time in medical until he could leave.

After his sight returned, despite the vertigo and nausea while everything was upside down, Jack saw Mac's whole demeanor shift. The exhausted defeat he'd witness in Rome was replaced with resolve. He didn't bring up his father again—and James didn't visit medical after that moment Mac's sight returned—but Jack could still feel him there, waiting at the edge of each thought, every conversation.

One morning, two days after Mac's sight began to return, Jack sat slumped in his easy chair, the leg rest kicked out and his wounded leg propped up, working on a crossword puzzle on his new phone.

"Augustus," came a voice off to his left.

Jack shifted in his chair, looking at Mac's sleepy face and clear eyes. "Augustus?"

"First emperor of Rome," Mac elaborated. "Seven down."

Jack peered down at his crossword. "Huh," he replied. "I thought it was Julius Caesar…but that had too many letters."

"Caesar was Augustus' great-uncle," Mac informed him, yawning. "When he was murdered, Augustus was the next ruler…and, why, exactly, are you doing a crossword puzzle about Rome?"

Jack grinned at him over his shoulder. "Seemed fitting," he said. "It was either that or Indiana Jones."

Mac chuckled and rolled carefully over in the bed, shifting a bit more upright.

"Looks like you finally got your peepers back," Jack remarked, feeling like he shouldn't move too quickly.

"Mm-hmm," Mac replied, clearing his sleep-roughened voice. "Think they'll let me go home now?"

"How about I find out?"

When Mac was finally released, Bozer and Riley promised to meet them at Mac's—for it was truly Mac's now, with Bozer having relocated—for pizza and beer to celebrate Mac's homecoming. Jack drove them home from the Phoenix, windows down, radio up, watching from the corner of his eyes as Mac leaned his face into the wind, letting the California sun heat his skin.

"Glad to be home?" Jack asked.

"I am," Mac nodded. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I love traveling, but there's just something about coming home that makes you…breathe easier."

"You would know," Jack teased, drawing Mac's patented very funny wry smile.

They pulled into the driveway and Mac frowned as he got out of the car. "It feels different without Bozer here."

"Dude, you haven't even gone inside yet!"

Mac shrugged, taking his duffel bag from Jack. "I know. Doesn't make it feel any less different."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Millennials."

Mac chuckled and started to follow Jack inside, but stopped at the doorway. When Jack turned to look back, he saw a strange sort of terror on his partner's face.

"Mac?"

"It's…," he swallowed. "It's kinda dark in…in there." He stumbled over the confession, but wasn't embarrassed enough to move forward.

Jack nodded sagely. "Wait right here."

He left the door open, then limped inside and turned on every light from the hallway through the kitchen and into the living room leading to the back deck. He returned and pulled the door wider.

"There! All lit up!"

Mac glanced down and away, then stepped over the threshold. "Thanks, Jack," he muttered. "Sorry about that."

"Hey," Jack waved a hand at him, leading into the kitchen and watching as Mac dropped his duffel next to the couch instead of heading back toward his room. "Look, you were trapped in the dark a lot longer than I was and I still get the willies when I have to go into a small room with not enough lights, so. No big, okay?"

"Okay," Mac smiled, then headed immediately for the deck and the sunlight.

Jack grabbed a six pack from the fridge and ordered the pizza, texting Riley and Bozer that they were back. Following Mac to the deck he dropped heavily into one of the chairs, twisting off the top of his beer.

Mac was looking out across the view of the city as though he couldn't get his eyes full enough.

"Thought at all about what you're going to do?" Jack ventured.

Mac turned from his surveillance of Los Angeles and flipped the question on him. "What are you going to do?"

Jack crossed an ankle over his knee and sipped his beer. "Well, you know, I've thought about it. A lot, actually. I thought about it the whole time you were gone. I thought about it while we were climbing around in the world's biggest tomb, and I thought about it while you were going through Syntac withdrawals in medical."

Mac gave him a half smile and accepted the beer Jack offered. "And did any of this thinking yield an answer?"

"It did, it did," Jack nodded. "But…as you are so fond of saying, you're not going to like it."

Mac frowned, but didn't push, waiting Jack out.

"See, I realized when I landed in Rome that I'd had just about enough of protecting you from a distance," Jack revealed. "I gotta say, I don't know how your dad has done it all this time—and I know, I know. That's a whole other ball o'wax right there." Jack held up a hand, silencing Mac's automatic protest. "But whatever else screwed up thing that man has done or thought, he's still your dad, and kid, he may have a messed up way of showing it, but he loves you. I saw it."

Mac rolled his eyes, looking away. "He doesn't know how to love someone, Jack. Not since my mom died."

"See, now that's where you're wrong," Jack held up his beer and pointed at Mac. "Here's how I know. I had the best father in the world. The best, hands down. And that man loved his family. Loved me." Jack smiled softly with nostalgia. "But that didn't mean we didn't go at each other like a couple of bulls. There were some fights I'm surprised didn't wake up the neighbors."

Mac arched a brow. "Your dad's the greatest, no question," he said, clinking his beer bottle against Jack's. "But…I don't see what that has to do with mine."

"I saw the look on his face when he thought you were asleep, and then again when your sight came back," Jack revealed. "He was in agony that there was nothing he could do to make this better for you."

Mac glowered and took a sip of his beer.

"You don't have to forgive him, Mac. You don't have to do anything," Jack said, dropping his leg so that he could lean forward, elbows on knees, eyes on Mac. "But it's important that you know your father loves you. It's important for you."

Mac swallowed and looked away. "So…you're going back to the Phoenix?" he concluded.

Jack shook his head. "I'm going where you go," he told him. "Even if that's not the Phoenix."

"Jack," Mac shook his head. "I don't want you to choose the course of your life based on my…my desire to defy my dad."

Jack shrugged, sipping his beer. "Turns out, I'm actually okay with that. That moment in the catacombs," he said, sitting back, "when I didn't think I'd be able to get us out…I realized something. As much as I'd miss Riley, and Diane, and hell, even Bozer…I've lived a damn good life. And the best thing about it? Was getting to know you."

Mac looked down, his cheeks flushing red, the healing blisters turning white in contrast.

"So, if you stay, I stay. If you go, I go. And I'm good either way."

"I've been thinking, too," Mac confessed. "There's a lot of evil in this world. And it's in places we…we don't even suspect." He looked back up at Jack, meeting his eyes. "And I think the only way to defeat it—both on the outside and inside—is through the Phoenix. So…I'm going to go back," he ducked his chin, his eyes hitting Jack's, "as long as you stay with me."

"I haven't left you yet, kid," Jack grinned. "Don't plan on doing it anytime soon."

The night stretched on, Bozer and Riley arrived with pizza. The group had fun catching Mac up on their antics while he'd been away—especially Bozer. Jack watched Mac's bright eyes dance from Riley's laughter to Bozer's literal re-enactment and felt something inside of him release.

It felt like he'd been holding his breath for a month and could finally exhale.

Mac's laugh drew his attention.

"It was really pretty awesome, Mac, I'm telling you," Bozer was saying.

"Which part?" Riley teased. "The fact that a little girl wasn't scared of Big Bad Jack, or that he knew to use Sterno cans to start a fire?"

"Either," Bozer grinned. "Both."

Mac looked over at Jack. "The Sterno fire was a great idea."

"Got the idea from when we were in Norilsk, remember that?" Jack grinned, then made a show of shivering. "Never been so cold."

"That's because you were hypothermic," Mac said with a smirk.

Jack lifted a shoulder. "I wasn't worried; I knew you'd figure something out."

"I'm telling you, Mac. Jack was like a…a human tank," Bozer continued, "getting us out of there. I have to admit, when we showed up and there were like 400 guns waiting for us—"

Jack pulled a face and held up five fingers.

"—I thought we were dead, but Jack was all just," Bozer pretended to hold a rifle in his hands, growling slightly, "It's judgement day, sinners! Come out, come out wherever you are!"

Mac tossed his head back and laughed, the sound slipping around the room and hitting the other three like a shot of joy.

"Did you just quote The Dirty Dozen?" Jack chuckled, handing Bozer a beer in thanks.

"Dude, you were like Lee Marvin and Charles Bronson all rolled into one," Bozer grinned, accepting the beer.

"I'm impressed you even know who those guys are, Boze," Riley grinned.

Mac shook his head, waving Riley off. "Oh, don't get him started," he chuckled, one hand wrapped around his wounded side. "Since the moment he decided he was going to be a director, he's made it his mission to study every movie genre, like. Ever."

Jack grinned, watching Bozer bounce a fist off of Mac's, the two of them laughing at something the other said in recollection of their shared childhood. The contrast to the memories Bozer shared in the War Room over a week ago was like seeing the other side of a shadow.

The stories continued late into the evening and Jack realized he wasn't the only one who noticed Mac's increasing withdraw from conversation.

As night took hold, Mac observed more than he participated, his smile soft and appreciative, his body drawing lines of tension between the other three. When the glow of lights from the deck could no longer permeate the dark, Mac gravitated inside toward the living room like a moth to a flame.

"I think it's time to call it a night," Bozer declared, watching Mac retreat into the light. He exchanged a knowing look with Jack and gathered up the empty bottlesand pizza boxes.

"Feels weird," Mac muttered from the well-lit kitchen. "You leaving here at the end of a day."

Bozer shrugged. "Maybe I'll be back, you never know."

Mac gave him a half-smile. "Naw, man. I'm happy for you."

"You gonna be okay here, though?" Bozer frowned, looking worriedly at his friend's closed expression. "I mean, I don't want—"

"It's okay, Boze," Mac reassured him. "I'll be fine."

Jack simply nodded from behind Mac, reassuring Bozer that Mac wouldn't be alone until he was ready.

"Drop me at Billy's?" Riley asked, grabbing her jacket.

Jack crossed his arms and gave her a mockingly stern look. "Be careful over there, Ri," he grumped.

She rolled her eyes, but then leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Always am, Jack," she replied. "Thanks for coming home."

Jack's expression softened and he gave her a one-armed hug, waving as Bozer held the door open for her and they both left.

"What about you?" Mac asked.

Jack made his way over to the front door, twisting the new lock and tugging to make sure it held.

"I figured, your first night back…you might not be ready for an empty house," he said, glancing back at Mac.

He was rewarded with an exhale of relief.

"You look exhausted, kid," Jack continued. "How about you grab some shut-eye? I know where all the spare stuff is."

Mac glanced down the darkened hallway toward his room and Jack saw his face tighten with reluctance and trepidation. He was about to offer to turn on the lights when Mac shook his head.

"I'm too wired," he claimed, moving back toward the safety of the the living room.

"Okay, well…how about a movie," Jack suggested following Mac and sinking down onto the edge of the couch.

"Aren't you tired?" Mac asked.

"Nah," Jack replied, waving a hand. "Never too tired for a movie!"

Mac smiled. "Yeah, okay."

"I pick," Jack declared.

"Thanks, Jack," Mac said softly.

Jack gave him a side-eyed glance. "You haven't seen what movie I pick yet."

"I mean," Mac sat heavily on the couch, tucking himself back into the corner almost protectively. "For not calling me out for…y'know." He waved his hand around his face, toward his eyes. "It's stupid, I know."

Jack sighed, his shoulders curling forward. "Kid, you know I got my fair share of issues. Guys like us…we can't do what we do and just leave it all behind," he glanced at Mac, watching as the kid's big eyes took him in as if memorizing every line, every word. Just in case. "You'll get past this. You will."

"I hope so," Mac confessed softly. "I just can't…close my eyes. Not for long anyway. I'm afraid when I open them…."

"It'll still be dark?" Jack guessed.

Mac nodded, his gaze slipping away.

"I get that," Jack told him. "But no matter what, Mac, you're not going to be alone in that dark. Whether it's inside you or out in the world. You got me. Always, you hear?"

Mac nodded again, rubbing a hand on the seam of his jeans. "I hear you," Mac replied. "I hope I never make you regret that, Jack," he whispered.

Jack wanted to reach over and give the kid a hug, but the way Mac was holding himself screamed personal bubble engaged, so he kept his arms at his sides.

"Not possible," Jack replied. "'Cause you know what? It was my choice. You are my choice—being your partner, being your friend. Doesn't matter who connected us in the beginning, I re-upped to make sure the slowest EoD in the desert didn't get himself blown up trying to save the world."

Mac nodded, his chin quivering slightly, his eyes shifting back towards Jack, though not quite landing on him.

"And I chose to join DSX with you, stay at the Phoenix with you, and follow every cockamamie idea in that head of yours, you know why?"

Mac did look at him then, questions in his blue eyes.

"Because I trust you, Mac," Jack smiled. "One hundred and ten percent."

"You know it's empirically impossible to go beyond one hundred," Mac teased, vocally shoving his emotion down deep, but unable to pull it from his eyes.

Jack shrugged, waving a hand. "Science has nothing to do with this." He dropped his chin and met Mac's eyes. "I trust you, Mac. Always have. And I don't regret that one bit."

Mac looked down. "Okay," he nodded.

"Now, how about that movie?" Jack clapped his hands together. "I say we go for a classic."

"Dude, I don't think I can watch Die Hard tonight," Mac grumbled good-naturedly.

Jack tossed him a look. "You're no fun. Besides, there's no possible way anyone can tap out on Die Hard," he muttered, looking through the DVD collection beneath the TV. "Aha! Perfect."

He put the movie in, then dropped down on the opposite end of the couch from Mac. When the unmistakable theme music started, Mac laughed.

"Indiana Jones? Really?"

"Last Crusade, man!" Jack grinned. "We can see where they went wrong with the catacombs."

"Oh, swell," Mac chuckled. "Just what I need to get over my phobia."

In fact, that's exactly what Jack had thought it would be—a way for Mac to put those memories and that fear into a different place in his head. Not the place where he almost died, but simply one more mission they survived. One more place he pulled off the impossible.

As they watched, laughing at the banter between Indy and his father, sobering at the moments of peril, Jack noticed Mac slip lower and lower on the sofa until his head was propped on the arm of the couch, his own arms wrapped around his body, looking all of sixteen.

As the theme music played once more and the heroes rode off into the sunset, Jack tossed a blanket over Mac's shoulders, the kid snoring softly in his sleep.

"I chose wisely," he said, chuckling at his own humor.

He reached for the lamp, but paused as he saw Mac frown in his sleep as if somehow sensing the oncoming darkness. It was going to take Mac some time, Jack knew, to get past that fear. But he wasn't going to push.

He'd just be there to turn on the light.

FIN

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I do really enjoy playing in this sandbox. It was interesting to try to write these characters outside of the little 'verse I'd created with my Ambassador Series, so I hope I did okay, and that if you made it here to the end, that you enjoyed.

One last quick note: all translations are thanks to Google translate (seriously, where would we be without the interwebs). So, if you speak Italian, French, or German, I hope I was close. And if you don't...well, just pretend you never saw this note *I was never here*...