Not gonna lie, I have absolutely no clue where this fic came from. I was just in a missing Jack kinda mood and decided to make Mac suffer along with me. I swore I wouldn't write something like this. In my mind, the only possible way Jack would have ever left Mac was by death. But here we are...

Mac frowned, rolling his head slowly as he tried to force some of the fuzziness out of his brain. His cheek scraped against the unfortunately familiar material of a hospital pillowcase and he was pretty sure he should have been embarrassed by the groan that escaped his lips but he couldn't find it in himself to care as he continued waking up and discovered an ache in his shoulder, pulsing with each heartbeat, that answered his questions about why he was waking up in a hospital.

He slowly pried open his eyes, squinting against the overpowering combination of harsh fluorescent lights overhead and the sunlight streaming through the opened curtains. He turned his head away from the window, and his eyes landed on the empty chair sitting beside his bed.

He was still staring at it when Desi quietly pushed his door open.

"Shoot," She offered him an apologetic smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, I'm glad to see you awake and everything, but I was hoping you wouldn't know I'd left. Coffee run." She held up her cup as evidence.

"It's fine," He forced his lips into what he hoped was some semblance of a smile.

"Alright," She said, sitting down and crossing her legs. "I know I'm pretty new to this but let's see if I can hit all the questions in one go. Phoenix Med, busted up shoulder, everyone else is fine, you've been out of it for," She paused to look at her watch, using the opportunity to take a quick drink of her coffee while it was still hot. "A little over two hours, but you're stuck here at least until the day after tomorrow. Standard hospital post-surgical policies. How'd I do?"

While he had admittedly been wondering about each of those very things, his mind latched onto one word and held on tight. "Surgery?" He asked, hoping the hoarseness in voice masked the sudden nerves.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, probably should have lead with that." She admitted with sympathetic eyes. "Apparently you've got a history of throwing that shoulder out, they couldn't patch it up as easily this time around."

He nodded, closing his eyes as her words combined with the pain radiating from his shoulder sent a barrage of memories flooding his mind. Memories of the last time he had popped his shoulder out of the socket on a mission. Back when he had an overwatch with steady soothing hands and an accent that somewhere over the course of their friendship had gone from annoying to comforting to take care of the problem for him.

He wasn't sure which was harder to look at, the empty chair he had woken up to or seeing his new partner sitting in it, so he chose to just keep his eyes closed.

"Again," Desi's voice broke through the silence. "I'm new at this, so I don't really know what to expect. Is this normal hurt MacGyver behavior? Or are you just in pain? Because I've never seen you this quiet and I'm not quite sure what my play is here. Honestly, it's kinda unsettling."

"Little bit of both," He said, sending her what he had intended to be a reassuring smirk but fell short, landing on what was practically a grimace. "I'm fine."

Mac saw it in her eyes, the moment she pieced it together. He should have expected nothing less really, she was far too smart not to figure it out sooner or later. "Or maybe you just don't have the right person sitting here with you."

Mac shrugged, just a slight movement of his non-injured shoulder. "No big deal."

"Like hell it's not," Desi argued, setting her coffee mug down on the table beside Mac's bed and leaning towards him, elbows propped on her knees. "Come on, MacGyver. When was the last time you were laid up in a hospital without him here?"

Mac just closed his eyes again and bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to keep himself from admitting that it had never happened, not once. Not through their tours overseas, work at DXS, or at Phoenix. Until now.

"It's okay to miss him," Desi said softly, resting a gentle hand on his forearm. She was trying, he knew, and while he really did appreciate the sentiment, but it was just making the entire situation worse. Everything she was doing to try to help him should have worked, it was just coming from the wrong source.

"I'm fine." He repeated again, afraid that if he said any more he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions in check.

"Well, I'm going to call your bluff on that," Desi sighed, moving her hand and leaning back in her chair, giving him some space. "And I'm sorry I'm not Jack, really. But I'll do whatever you need, whatever I can to make this easier on you."

Mac forced himself to turn his head back to look at her. To meet her eyes, filled with concern, knowing he was hurting and trained to fix it. The only problem, and it was nothing against her, was that he felt like her being there was just a part of her job requirement. And he had taught himself a long time ago to do whatever it took to not be a burden to people he cared about.

"Just tell me what you need," She tried again, and he almost considered it.

He almost broke down and explained that he was thirsty but didn't have the energy to reach over to his bedside table to grab the glass of water sitting there, let alone to hold it for himself. He almost asked her to go pull the drapes to block the sunlight pouring in through the window and admitted that the scent of coffee coming from her to-go mug was making him slightly nauseous, but he didn't. There was no point. Telling her that what he really missed, aside from all the little tricks Jack had picked up over the years to keep him as comfortable as possible, was his partner's hands, not-so-subtly checking his forehead for a fever, using the move as an opportunity to card his fingers through Mac's hair, playing along when Mac pretended to be annoyed by the gesture when they both knew he took immense comfort in it. He missed not having to ask. The ease of Jack just knowing what he needed, sometimes before he himself knew. He almost told Desi everything, but he knew it would just leave her feeling sorry for him and disappointed in herself, as if she had somehow let down both him and Jack, so he stayed quiet.

"Mac?" She asked again, hesitant, eyes flicking quickly between him and the door, wondering if she should go find a doctor to check him over.

His new quiet reserve was scaring her, which hadn't been his intention, so he did the only thing he could think of. "I'm tired, Desi. You can leave, I'm just gonna go back to sleep."

"I can stay," She offered. "I really don't mind."

He shook his head. "Go home," He braced himself for the pain as he carefully rolled onto his side, ignoring the aching pull on his shoulder as he shifted positions, and turned his back to her.

Desi hesitated for a few seconds before standing up. "If you need anything, MacGyver, you call. I get that I'm not who you want here so it doesn't even have to be me. Call Bozer or Riley. Somebody, but… don't punish yourself and make this harder than it has to be just because he's not here, okay?" She hesitated at the doorway until she saw him nod in agreement. "I'm just a phone call away if you change your mind." She reminded as she left the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Mac scrunched his eyes tighter closed against the harsh sunlight, still assaulting through his closed lids. It didn't matter, he tried to convince himself, it was still better than looking at the chair that he had come to think of as being Jack's over the years, sitting empty by his bedside.

~M~

Bozer had been by Mac's side through a lot over the years. He remembers thinking, after the truth about his best friend's top-secret-super-spy life became not-so-secret and their friendship had managed to survive, that they had made it through every test and trial two friends could possibly go through. He had been wrong then, because once he started working at Phoenix, they were thrown into countless unimaginable scenarios together. He had learned to stop assuming that he'd been through it all because the universe was determined to keep throwing them new hoops to jump through.

They all knew it was going to be an adjustment when Jack left. And Bozer, in particular, knew how hard the change was going to be on Mac. He thought he had prepared himself to help in any way he could. He had plans, distractions, projects, just waiting to bring Mac and his giant brain out of the spiral he could sometimes get lost in.

What he hadn't prepared himself for, though, was sitting beside Mac in Phoenix's post-op recovery bay. No matter how strong their friendship was, how deep their roots ran, being Mac's rock in medical situations had always been Jack's gig. Sure, Bozer had been there, willing to help, but usually in the form of having a pot of chicken soup ready when they made it home from the hospital and making sure Mac's favorite blankets were waiting for him on the couch. Not sitting there, waiting for him to wake up, no clue what he was supposed to say or do when he finally did.

Unfortunately for Bozer, Mac's eyelids started shifting and the fingers on the hand closest to Bozer began moving, just the slightest bit, against the stark white sheets, and he was out of time to prepare.

"Mac?" He asked softly, leaning forward in his chair. "You awake in there?"

The responding sound that came from the young blonde wasn't quite distinguishable as a word, at least not to Bozer's ear, but he turned his head slightly towards the familiar voice, so he counted it as progress.

"You're gonna have to wake up a little bit more if you're gonna expect me to understand that kinda gibberish," Bozer smiled, acting on a whim and asking himself what Jack would do in his situation as he carefully wrapped Mac's hand in his own.

"Jack?" The next sound from Mac's lips was unmistakable, even with his gravelly, hoarse voice, and it sent a pang through Bozer's chest.

"Naw, Mac," He said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Not quite. You're stuck with me this time around."

"Jack," Mac tried again, fighting to wake up.

"Jack's not here, buddy." Bozer tried again, and that was the final trigger in snapping Mac fully awake.

"Wh're is he?" Mac asked, struggling to focus his squinting eyes on Bozer's face in panic. "Happen'd?"

"He's fine," Bozer quickly assured, kicking himself for not realizing sooner that Mac would immediately assume the worst when he woke up in a hospital bed without Jack there beside him. "He's fine, Mac. He's just not here."

Mac shook his head, blonde hair rustling against the papery pillowcase, as he turned towards the other side of his bed, looking for his partner. Desperate to prove Bozer wrong, searching for the familiar comfort of having Jack near. "He's always here," He said softly, the drugs still coursing through his system making it impossible to hide the emotion in the words. "'less he's hurt too. Sometimes even then."

"He's working," Bozer prompted carefully, taking his time and choosing each word cautiously, which wasn't something that came naturally to him. "Remember? He's been gone for a little while now."

He watched in horror as Mac's eyes welled up with tears at the realization that Jack really wasn't there and in the months since he had left, Bozer had never missed him more than at that moment.

"I'm sorry, Mac," Bozer said, shaking his head, trying to keep his own emotions in check. "I really am. I know this is rough, but it's not like you're going through this alone, right? I'm here. And you've got Riley and Desi and Matty, who, I mean, sure, she isn't exactly the most comforting person but you know she cares about you. We all do. And we might not do as good a job as Jack but we're damn sure gonna try, okay?"

Mac nodded, as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, but even that wasn't enough to keep twin tear tracks from making their way down his temples and into his hairline. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he tried to keep his struggle internalized and Bozer felt the tiny movement like a punch to the gut. "We'll get through it, Mac," He promised.

Mac nodded, one quick dip of his head, spastic and sharp, and though he had technically agreed, it was obvious he wasn't quite sure if he believed it.

Bozer wasn't sure he did either.

~M~

Riley pushed open his door the next morning, her smile bright against the muted palette of Phoenix Med, balancing her open laptop in one arm. "Morning," she said, carefully placing the computer on Mac's bedside table and dropping a quick kiss to his cheek. "Feeling any better?"

"I'm fine," He answered automatically. It was the same response he had given everyone else who had asked that exact question, or any of the many variations of it, since he had landed himself a stay in the medical ward and he wasn't planning on changing it any time soon.

"Sure you are," She rolled her eyes, clearly not believing him for one second, but there was a spark in her dark eyes that hadn't been there when she stopped in to check on him after his surgery the day before. She couldn't entirely hide her smile, Mac noticed, though she was trying, dutifully playing the part of a worried friend, stepping up to try to fill the newly vacated position. "You hurting and bored and miserable, being stuck here."

"You're point?" He asked with a sigh, not bothering to deny anything she had just said.

His curiosity was fully piqued when her poorly concealed smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "My point," She teased, throwing his own snarky question back at him with none of the heat his words had held, "Is that I may just have something that can help with all that."

His eyebrows raised in question as she excitedly turned her laptop around so that the screen was facing him. The connection wasn't the best quality, grainy and slightly discolored, but there was no mistaking Jack's face on the other end of the video call. He looked exhausted, dusty and disheveled, but his eyes lit up when they met Mac's, even if they were half a world apart.

"Hey champ," Jack said softly, the words were slightly warped by static but the ache in Mac's chest, the one that he hadn't even noticed was still there after growing accustomed to Jack's absence, dissipated instantly and he found himself wondering, idly, how he'd managed to breathe for the past few months with that weight bearing down on him.

"Matty's got me running surveillance for a team in Milan," Riley said, interrupting the moment. Mac honestly had forgotten that she was even still in the room, but he would blame that on the pain meds if anyone brought it up. "So can you keep an eye on that for me?" She asked, nodding towards her computer. "And I'll swing by and pick it up later?"

He could only nod in agreement, afraid to take his eyes away from his partner's smiling face on the screen.

She leaned down, giving Mac's hand a gentle squeeze and shooting Jack a quick wink. "I'll talk to you later Jack, okay?"

"Sure thing, honey." He agreed, meeting her eyes for a fraction of a second before turning all his attention back to Mac and waited until he heard the sound of the door clicking shut behind her before talking again. "Just you and me now?"

Mac nodded, his brain still spinning on overload.

"Good, then you can drop the tough-guy act and tell me what's goin' on."

"I'm alright," Mac insisted again, biting back a cringe and hoping that the less-than-perfect video reception would mask the tremble in his voice. He should have known, really, that no matter how many months Jack had been gone and how many miles stretched out between them, that his partner would see right through his facade. It still came as a shock, how well Jack could read him, even after all the years they had worked together.

"You really gonna try to play that game with me?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. "You, the kid hurtin' in a hospital bed and, from what I've heard, doin' a pretty damn good job of shoving away anyone who's trying to help you?"

"Surgery went okay," Mac said as he rolled over onto his side, ignoring the deep-rooted ache in his shoulder that began screaming in protest at his movement, so he could have a better view of the computer screen. "As long as nothing comes up I should be out of here tomorrow morning, shoulder should be good as new in a few weeks. "

"That's great and all," Jack conceded, nodding at the information that Riley had undoubtedly already updated him with, "But I didn't ask about your shoulder. I know it's gonna be just fine. I wouldn't have let those docs at Phoenix Med patch you up a million and one times if I didn't trust 'em. I asked about you."

Mac couldn't help the teasing smirk that turned one corner of his lips up into a lopsided smirk. "I mean, technically since my shoulder is a part of me I answered the question…"

Jack shook his head and huffed an exasperated laugh. "C'mon kid, humor me?" His voice lost it's joking tone quickly. "I need to know you're okay, Mac."

"I am," Mac assured, hoping the words were convincing enough.

"You mean that?" Jack leaned forward, resting one arm against the top of whatever computer he had commandeered to peer closer, sensing the hesitation in the words. "You can tell me if you're not, buddy. I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"I really am," Mac sighed. "It's just weird, you know? Being stuck here without you."

"Tell me about it," Jack agreed with a sympathetic smile. "I'm pretty sure some of the guys on the team thought I'd gone and flipped my lid when Bozer called me sayin' you were hurt."

Mac smiled, naturally falling into a state of relaxation at the familiar cadence of his partner's voice. "I miss you," He said softly.

"Aww, bud, I miss you too." Jack sighed. "Miss all of y'all."

"Are you any closer to catching Kovacs?" Mac asked, allowing the slightest trace of hope to tint his question. "To coming home?"

"Mac," Jack's reply was cautionary, a yellow warning light. "You know I couldn't tell you if I was, buddy."

"I know, sorry," He smiled. "It was worth a shot."

"Hopefully soon," Jack amended, any trace of sternness already long forgotten, "Every day's one day closer."

"You're safe though, right?" Mac asked. Being able to talk to Jack these days was never a guarantee, weeks went by sometimes without so much as a hurriedly answered email or text. They got an occasional crackling, static-filled phone call if they were lucky, so the video chat Riley had set up was a luxury and Mac was going to make sure to get that slight reassurance of his partner's safety while he had the chance, his own wellbeing irrelevant.

"I'm as safe as I can be, given the job," Jack promised after a weighted pause, which wasn't the most comforting answer but Mac appreciated the honesty in the words. "But we're not worryin' about me at the moment, we're worryin' about you. I'm not even sure how we jumped topics just now. Circle back around for me, how you feelin'?"

"Sore," Mac admitted, face twisting as if admitting a weakness caused him more pain than the injury that landed him in the hospital to begin with ever did. "But it's not too bad."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, brother, but I think I need to be a little more concerned about your mental game bein' off than I am about that ding you took to the shoulder." The worry and tension coming off Jack in waves was palpable even through the computer screen. "Ri said you went and got yourself into a bit of a funk. Kept shutting her and everyone else out."

"I highly doubt she said funk," Mac rolled his eyes. "And I swear, Jack, I'm fine. It's just… I don't know, man. It's hard not having you here. It's like I'm having to retrain myself to let them in, to let them help me. And it's easier to just ignore it all till I'm back on my feet and things can go back to normal than it is to deal with all that."

"You've got a lot of talents, my friend, but unpacking emotional baggage has never been one of them," Jack agreed. "But you know they're just trying to help you, right? That they want to help you? They love you, kiddo, and it's not the end of the world if you have to accept some help every once and a while instead of being the one saving the day."

"I know. And if it gets to be too much I know I can count on any of them," Mac promised. "Doesn't mean I don't wish you were here though. There's an empty chair with your name on it."

"I wish I could be there too, brother," Jack said, not-so-discreetly brushing a hand across his face to erase the tears that had suddenly welled up at Mac's words. "And hey, there's more than my name waitin' for me there on that chair. As many times as you've ended up in that room? Hell, I'd be willing to bet there's' a pretty accurate ass print left on that cushion."

Mac laughed, the type of harsh, dry, barking laugh that only comes after one has gone far too long without laughing, and felt even more of his tension drain away. "You're probably right," He agreed. "Only one way to find out."

"I'm comin' home, buddy," Jack promised. "I'm sorry, but it ain't gonna happen before you make it back home yourself this time, but I am gonna come back to you. I need you to believe that, okay?"

"I do," Mac assured. "And I swear I really am fine. It's been a bit of an adjustment and we're all waiting for the day when you come home, but we're good here, Jack, really. We've got this under control. The last thing you need is to be worrying about us, about me, while you're over there."

"You really mean that?"

Mac nodded, ignoring the pulling tug on his shoulder from the movement, needing something other than his words to drive his words home, to make Jack believe him. "Yup. This one just hit me pretty hard, man. I've never gone through something like this without having you here watching my six."

Jack nodded, staring blankly ahead into the corner of the screen for a few moments, silent, before quickly shaking his head and snapping out of his contemplative state, turning back to meet Mac's eyes with a smirk. "Didn't realize how nice it is to have Jack there, holding your hand through it all, did ya?"

"I can honestly say I didn't." Mac agreed. "It's not something I'll take for granted next time, that's for sure."

"Of course he's already planning on there being a next time," Jack muttered towards the sky, just loud enough that he was certain Mac heard him. His lighthearted teasing was interrupted by another voice, one Mac didn't recognize.

"Dalton, you planning on getting any work done today?" The voice asked, sharp and grating. "You know, maybe actually take this bastard down so we can go home instead of sitting around talking about how much you wish you were already there?"

"Give me a few," Jack answered, voice calm and perfectly polite, but with an obvious trace of something lethal beneath the words. "Get the trucks loaded up and I'll be there."

"If you need to go…" Mac started, letting his words trail off, selfishly hoping Jack would ignore whatever plans his new team had for the day, and say he could keep talking to Mac indefinitely.

Instead, Jack reached up, rubbing at the back of his neck and bringing his hand all the way up the back of his head before letting it drop to his lap in frustration and Mac knew that their call would be wrapping up. "I probably should head out."

"Okay," Mac agreed, plastering a fake smile on his face. "Go help. I told you before, I'm fine."

Jack glanced over his shoulder, gauging how quickly their supplies were being loaded, how much time he had left. "You make sure someone lets me know when you make it home, alright? Text, email, something. I may not be able to answer a phone call but let me know, you hear?"

"I will, umm," Mac hesitated. "Maybe we could set up another video call? When I'm out of here? Try to time it for when the gang's all over and catch up?" There wasn't much he wouldn't give to have an evening with their entire little makeshift family all gathered around his fire pit again.

Jack squeezed his eyes closed and Mac felt his stomach sink even further. "Mac, pal, I can't think of anything I'd like better than that, 'Cept for maybe actually bein' there in person." They were still operating on one wavelength, despite the miles between them. "But I can't promise you that. You know how shady the reception is over here, Riley basically had to call in a year's worth of miracles just to rig this up today."

"Yeah," Mac agreed, feigning impassiveness. "Sorry, I know. Shouldn't have mentioned it."

"I just can't get your hopes up on somethin' I may not be able to follow through with," Jack continued, seeing right through Mac's nonchalant act. "You've got enough on your plate right now without me letting you down even more."

"You've never let me down, Jack," Mac assured. "Not once."

"I wish that were true, bud," Jack scoffed. "I really do."

The moment was interrupted again, this time by another voice, though with the same message.

"I'm sorry, Mac, but I gotta get gone." He said, words heavy, every syllable laced with a thousand apologies.

"It's fine," Mac easily dropped those two little words once more, cynically noting that each time they passed his lips they became more of a lie. "Just, take care of yourself, okay?"

Jack nodded, giving himself a few extra seconds to work up the nerve to speak. "I will," He said finally. "You do the same though, you hear me?"

"Copy that," Mac agreed. "Go on. They need you. You're where you're supposed to be."

Jack took a moment to soak up every last detail he could through the fuzzy connection, savoring each and every second, nodding his head at Mac one more time before reaching out and closing the lid on the laptop, ending the call without a goodbye or closing remark of any kind.

He didn't give himself time to dwell on the kid half a world away who needed him, and if maybe this was one of those rare occasions where that kid was wrong. He didn't allow himself the luxury of wondering if maybe he wasn't where he belonged after all.

~M~

Riley sighed when she walked into Mac's living room, frowning at the half-eaten sandwich on a plate, balanced precariously on a pile of books on the coffee table. "Is there a reason you didn't eat?" She asked, raising her eyebrows towards where Mac was sitting on the couch.

"I ate." He nodded towards the plate, focusing on the part of his lunch that was gone rather than what was still left untouched, their personal little glass half full or half empty paradox.

She bit the inside of her cheeks, hard, not sure whether she wanted to laugh or let out a frustrated growl. She was starting to see why Jack had always acted like taking care of an injured MacGyver was such a big undertaking. He was argumentative and fiercely independent, despite the fact that his shoulder was bothering him so much that he couldn't do much more than lay on the couch and be miserable. But he looked so damn adorable doing it, with his floppy hair in a seemingly perpetual state of disarray and his blue eyes blown wide from the pain killers, wearing a pair of worn grey sweatpants that Riley was pretty sure had originally belonged to Jack, if the number of times the waistband had to be rolled down to get them to stay on Mac's thin frame was any indication, though she would never mention that out loud. All of it together was enough to kickstart a strange blend of emotions that converged into an instinct to comfort and help and protect that she had never experienced before and she idly found herself wondering if that was what it felt like to have a sibling.

Shoving that question to the back of her mind and filing it away for a therapy session some other day, she focused back on Mac and his lunch. "You know, if I only wanted you to eat half a sandwich that's all I would have brought you. You need to eat, Mac."

"I did." He let his head fall against the back of the couch, the leather cushion messing up his hair even more. "I ate enough to take my meds." Riley opened her mouth but he cut her off before she could get a word out. "Yes, I took them. And I know better than taking them on an empty stomach, it makes me sick. But I'll get sick if the pain gets too bad and I've eaten a lot too. It's a fine line and I know what I'm doing. I know you're just trying to help and I appreciate it, I do, but you don't have to stay here, Riles."

"Well, according to those papers they gave you when you left the hospital, somebody's supposed to stay with you for forty-eight hours after discharge." She reminded as she snagged the remote off the overflowing coffee table and plopped down in the armchair. "So, actually, I do have to be here." Catching a glimpse of his defeated expression out of the corner of her eye and knowing how hard it was on him thinking he was being a bother, she quickly amended. "But, as for the sandwich? Okay. I'll trust you're call on it. As long as you promise to tell me if you get hungry and let me get you something else. You're bad enough in the kitchen on a good day, I'd hate to know what you trying to fix yourself a snack with only one arm would result in."

"Deal," He agreed with a grin.

She smiled back before turning on the television and opening Mac's Netflix queue, scrolling through the seemingly endless list of saved options. "Let me know when you see something you wanna watch."

"You pick," Mac said, reaching behind him with his good arm and snagging the blanked folded across the back of the sofa. "I'm gonna crash for a little while."

"You'd probably be more comfortable if you took a nap in your bed instead of on the couch," She began, smiling a sheepish grin at the warning glare Mac sent her way, clearly letting her know she was moving close to coming off as overbearing. "Sorry, whatever you want. But if you're gonna sleep I've got some beta trials Matty sent me for a new surveillance system, I can work on that, it'd be a lot quieter."

"No," Mac shook his head, motioning back towards the tv screen. "No, I kinda… don't mind the noise."

She heard the hidden request behind the words, saw the desperate craving for some sense of normalcy on his face. She smiled and continued scrolling, eventually settling on a movie she had watched before, taking her laptop and a folder of paperwork out of her bag to get some work done while he rested.

Mac was sleeping soundly, a team effort between the pain medication and relief of finally being back in his own home after nights spent in Phoenix Med, and Riley's attention was focused on her work. That, combined with the television providing background noise, meant that neither of them noticed the faint rumble of a familiar Shelby's engine as it pulled into the driveway.

Riley glanced up at the jingle of a keyring at the doorway a few moments later and rolled her eyes, assuming Bozer had decided she wasn't capable of fixing Mac lunch on her own and had come home to check in on them during his break. She went back to work, ignoring the footsteps making their way down the hall towards her.

An Army green, camo duffle bag hit the floor with a quiet thump.

She didn't remember running across the living room. She wasn't sure where her computer ended up in the midst of the chaos and didn't care about the file of papers she sent flying. All she knew was one second she was working and in the space between heartbeats she found herself wrapped in Jack's arms.

"Hey darlin'," He said softly, placing a kiss to her forehead before pulling her in tighter, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes, marveling at the emotions shining there, proving that he was really home.

"I said I'd talk you ya soon," he teased.

"I didn't think it would be in two days," She laughed, quickly looking over her shoulder to make sure Mac hadn't woken up from all the commotion.

"Yeah, well," Jack took a step back, tilting his head to the side and cracking it with a loud pop. "Honestly I didn't either. Hopped a ride on the first bird I could find flyin' in stateside. Rode practically shoved into the cargo bin."

"How long are you here for?" She asked hesitantly.

Jack's smile grew even brighter, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and she breathed a sigh of relief before he even answered. "For as long as you want me, I guess. Told 'em I was done. Should've never left in the first place. Leavin' y'all? It nearly killed me." He peered around Riley, searching for a glimpse of blonde hair over the back of the sofa. "Nearly killed Mac too, if that mopey kid in the hospital bed I saw was anything to go by."

"He's okay," She assured. "Trust me, if he was that bad the whole time you were gone I personally would have hunted you down and dragged your ass home months ago. Honestly, I just don't think he knew what to do without you there these past few days." She pulled him into another quick hug before stepping away and nodding towards the living room. "Go on."

He nodded, taking a second to give her hand a quick squeeze before she silently snuck out onto the deck, leaving the two of them alone.

As if no time had passed at all, Jack stood over the couch and fell into an unfortunately familiar routine. Taking note of the dark circles beneath Mac's eyes, results of sleepless nights, and the slight lines marring his forehead. He wasn't sure which was worse, them being caused by pain or the stress of not having his partner when he needed him.

"Hey, bud," He said softly, dropping down to one knee to reach out and running a hand through Mac's hair. He felt some of the tension drain out of the younger man almost immediately, even though he was still unconscious, and Jack once again began silently berating himself for ever leaving the kid in the first place. "I just spent eleven hours on the world's most uncomfortable plane to get back here to you and you can't even wake up to say hi? Guess I deserve that after I just up and left you, huh?"

Mac stirred, not awake enough to process the words but instantly recognizing the familiar timbre of Jack's voice, and turned towards him, sleepily pressing up into the comforting hand still running through his hair.

"C'mon, kiddo," Jack pleaded. "I need to know that you're alright. You wanna wake up and talk to me for a few minutes?"

There must have been a hint of desperation lacing his words, something Mac was still fine-tuned to pick up on even after all the months apart, because a few moments later a pair of bright blue eyes were blinking up at his partner in disbelief. "Jack?" He asked hesitantly, not quite believing that he wasn't still dreaming.

"Yeah," Jack smiled. "A little late, but I'm here."

"What...? How?" Mac scrambled to push himself up with his good arm. "When?"

"Easy now, hoss," Jack placed a careful hand on his chest and pressed him back to the couch. "Take it easy. We got all the time in the world, one question at a time."

He was pretty sure Mac didn't even realize he had wrapped his free hand around Jack's wrist, holding his hand firmly against his chest. He could practically hear the wheels turning in Mac's mind, eyes flicking between staring up at Jack's face in awe and scanning his living room, trying to process the overload of questions he needed answered. He finally settled on one, eyes darkening a shade as his defense mechanisms kicked into high gear. "When do you have to leave?"

Jack huffed a laugh, cursing himself for ever thinking it was okay to leave his kids and their abandonment issues. "Yeah, that was the first thing Ri wanted to know too."

"Riley?" Mac asked, looking around the room for her and instead catching a glimpse of his hand wrapped around Jack's wrist. Letting go embarrassed, he reached up to rub at his sleepy eyes, peering up at Jack waiting for an answer.

"She's around here somewhere," he assured, knowing that Riley wouldn't have gone too far. "As for me? I mean, it's your house. I guess you can kick me out whenever you get tired of lookin' at me. I'm here as long as you want me around."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Mac said with a frown. He looked down at his arm, immobilized by a sling, shoulder packed with surgical dressings. "Help me up?" He asked around a yawn.

"Sure," Jack moved automatically, grasping Mac's free hand with one of his own, sliding his other arm behind Mac's back and slowly shifting him to sitting.

"You wanna actually answer my question now?" Mac asked once they were eye to eye. "Without the deflection and jokes this time? When do you have to go back?"

Jack should have known that Mac would assume he was falling back on humor to distract from the truth. It was pretty much his patented move. "Oh! Sorry, kiddo, my bad. I was serious before. I ain't goin' back. I'm all yours."

"Really?" Mac asked, the single word dripping with trepidation, afraid to get his hopes up.

"I wouldn't joke about somethin' like that, Mac," Jack assured. "I hung up my boots. For good this time. Sure, taking Kovacs out would make this world a much safer place, and there's a damn good team still out there that's gonna make sure that happens, but talkin' to you earlier? Man, it got me thinking, and I realized that I couldn't stand the thought of spending all this time bringing him down just to come home to find out that you'd went off and taken yourself out because I wasn't there to watch your back. The good you bring to this world, Mac, that's worth more than putting an end to all the bad he does, at least in my eyes. And I'm sorry it took me this long to realize that."

He would have kept going, Jack felt like he could spend hours apologizing for ever abandoning his team, his kids, and it wouldn't be enough, but his speech was cut off by Mac throwing himself forward and wrapping his unhindered arm tightly around Jack's neck in a hug that had been months in the making. "Easy, hoss," He said softly, bringing his hand up to grip the back of Mac's neck. "You're good. I'm here now, just take it easy. Don't need to go hurtin' yourself any worse."

"You don't have to do this," Mac said, pulling away after a few more seconds of being wrapped in the safety of Jack's arms. "Abandon the mission for me. I know how important it was to you."

"It was," Jack agreed with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Still is. And I'm not sayin' it was an easy choice to make. He's a bad dude and I wanted to be the one to take him down. I really thought I was doin' the right thing, leaving you to lead that strike team. But at the end of the day, it all comes down to choice, and when I saw you in that hospital bed, I don't know, it just became real clear that I'd made the wrong one."

"You're sure?" Mac asked, still not quite able to believe what he was hearing, not used to having somebody choose him, after all the years of them walking away.

"One hundred percent," Jack assured, turning around to shove a clear spot on the coffee table so he could sit, frowning at the half-eaten sandwich but knowing better than to mention it. "I'm ready to go back to overwatch duties as soon as you're back on your feet. As long as you still want me."

"Of course," Mac rolled his eyes. "I didn't want you to leave in the first place but it was important to you and I wasn't going to stand in your way. What about Desi?"

"She's grown on you, has she?" Jack smiled. "I thought she might. I mean, I haven't brought it up to Matty or anything, she doesn't even know I'm gonna be back on the payroll yet, but I think Phoenix can swing footing the bill for both of us. Lord knows we could use the extra firepower on some of the crazy jobs we get sent on. And there's always those random times we get split up, it'll be nice havin' a backup to send to keep an eye on you if I can't be there myself."

"Don't let her hear you call her your backup," Mac warned. "Or we'll be waiting for you to get out of the hospital before we can get back to work."

"You're probably right about that one, brother," Jack agreed with a smile. "Now, just how are we gonna convince the whole gang to come over here after work without lettin' 'em know I'm back? Turns out surprising people with the gift of my presence is pretty fun."

"You don't need to con our friends into coming over," Mac laughed. "Just have Riley call Bozer, tell him I mentioned wanting steak for dinner. He'll go all out without even questioning it."

"Dude," Jack groaned, practically salivating at the mere mention of food. "Don't tempt me with that. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a decent steak?"

If Mac thought about it, he was pretty sure he could calculate the exact number of days Jack had been gone. It wouldn't be very difficult to track backward from there to figure out the last time they had surrounded his fire pit with good food and cold beers and too-loud laughter, to give Jack the exact date of how long it had been. Hell, he could break it down into hours and minutes, maybe even seconds, if he really wanted to, and he seriously considered doing just that for a moment, if only to see the look of fond exasperation Jack would send his way. "Too long," He answered instead.

"You got that right, kiddo," Jack agreed with a grin. "Too damn long." And though his words were teasing, there was a promise beneath them that Mac had learned long ago never to question. He had gone his entire life with people leaving him. He should have known Jack would be the one he could count on to always come back.

Canon? Who needs canon? Certainly not this fandom...