A/N: Here we go again. It took me a while to write this one, and I think that it won't come as a surprise that I have such a big number of words on it. Knowing myself, I'm surprised that I didn't write more.

Honestly, I never think that I'll write past a certain number and then I go and write double the number I envisioned. Now one of my rules is never to think of how much I think I can write, but let it flow out of me and see where it will lead me.
The idea for this story was born one night as I was re-watching 1x08. I sent SabbyStralight a picture of Murdoc's messages to his victims before he killed them, because I thought of another idea involving Murdoc, and then the scene with Murdoc saying Mac arrived 4 minutes to spare out of the 15 minutes Murdoc gave him as a deadline played out. My brain (that doesn't shut up even in my sleep) thought that Mac must have had some pretty rad skills so he could arrive that fast to the junkyard. And then it hit me. What if Jack taught him some of those skills? Sabby helpfully supplied that Mac could have picked up some of those skills by watching Jack drive. Then I started plotting.
The broken arm… well that part was born out of the idea of Mac trying to shield Jack from the hit itself, and that's how I broke Mac's arm.
It's been a wild ride (pun intended!) writing this story, and there were tears, feels and heartbreak as well as smiles all the while the process lasted. I'm pretty proud with what I wrote and I hope that you will like it as much as I liked writing it.
Now to the story, there are a few things I'd like to point out.
There's mentioning and description of blood in case anyone needs a warning for that type of thing (because I'm aware everyone has different trigger warnings). There's an almost panic attack, nothing too descriptive, just the start and aborted panic attack, but just to be safe I'm tagging that, too. And ultimately, it's about a car crash for a better part of the fic, and there's warning for that too, so if car crashes are especially triggering for you, then don't read.
The beautiful moodboard for this story is once again Sabby's doing. Thank you for always being my sounding board, for brainstorming with me, and thrown ideas at me that always find their way inside my stories one way or another. Most of all thank you for always listening to me babble. You are truly an amazing friend 3.
Title from "Breakdown" by Daughtry.

*PRESENT DAY*

Jack finished cleaning the kitchen. He promised Bozer he'd do it so the guy could rest a bit. Bozer was reluctant to leave, but Jack assured him that he and Mac would be fine. After Bozer baked them a pie and made a casserole, Jack insisted he'd clean the kitchen. It gave Jack something to do while Mac was sleeping and it was a testament to how much Mac was drained that he didn't even stir while Jack banged pots and pans against every available surface. Never in his wildest dreams had Jack Dalton thought that Angus MacGyver would manage a good sleep while Jack was set to make the maximum noise in his kitchen.

Ever since they were in the car accident, Jack hadn't been sleeping well. He woke up, first in his own bed at the hospital (that he had to accept on Mac's insistence and Bozer and Riley's support of Mac's request); and then after he kicked up a fuss and was moved in the same room as Mac; Jack wound up sleeping in the chair next to Mac's bed anyway, waking up every so often with a crick in his neck.

There were nightmares. That Mac didn't make it. That the car hit their vehicle from Jack's side and that it was Jack that died and left Mac alone. Jack could count the times when he got actual sleep on the fingers of one hand. And he knew that somewhere along the way someone would notice. Mac was oblivious though. He didn't need Jack's torturing thoughts on his consciousness. Plus Mac was on the good stuff. That was probably the reason why he was sleeping so much.

Jack wiped a stray tear that sneaked past his tear ducts and exhaled. They came close this time. After Cairo, Jack knew that he was living on borrowed time. He knew that one day soon that borrowed time might expire. And Jack was genuinely scared about what would be left in his wake if things went south, God forbid. There were some missions, some risks, that went beyond Jack's promise to stay next to Mac's side and never leave. Mac knew that, but still it made Jack feel uneasy every time he thought that this was the last time they'd see each other or talk.

But what bothered Jack the most were the close calls where he almost lost Mac. It made something inside his heart twist whenever the kid was in danger, or like now, coming this close to actually dying as a result of the car crash they both, luckily, survived.

Jack opened the fridge and after sweeping a look over the contents, he picked a cold beer. He decided to sit on the deck a bit, it was still daylight and maybe it would do him some good if he sat and unwind a bit.

He couldn't resist the need to check on the kid first. Maybe it was selfish, to do that while Mac was resting and probably rousing him from sleep, but it was necessary for Jack to make sure they were both here. That Mac was alive and well and in his house, not in a hospital, fighting for his life and monitors beeping in the background.

After their initial reunion, Mac took turn to the worse that earned him two more days in the hospital, being monitored and watched over in case things went south again. Which they thankfully didn't.

Jack thought that shrill sound would be inducing nightmares for a long time to come.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the door to Mac's room. The kid was sprawled on the bed like a starfish. Well as much as a starfish could go with a broken arm, but it made Jack smile and he had to stifle a chuckle at the thought.

Mac was wearing one of Jack's t-shirts with cut off sleeves, currently a Rolling Stones one and one of Jack's numerous pairs of sweatpants that made home within Mac's wardrobe a lifetime ago. There was something about Mac wearing Jack's clothes that tugged at Jack's heart and he found himself wiping another tear. The kid looked so young like this, it made Jack's heart ache.

Mac's right arm was in a cast and propped on pillows. The blanket was tangled at Mac's feet and Jack untangled it to cover Mac with it, careful to not wake him up. Mac didn't even stir. Jack watched the steady rise and fall of Mac's chest for a bit and then he left the room. Closing the door softly behind him, Jack finally climbed the stairs and sat on the deck. He opted out of starting a fire, it was still warm even for LA standards so he was okay sitting like that.

Now that he was alone with his thoughts, Jack really let himself think. Out of fear of not being at his best when his kid was hurting, he kept all things at bay, what he wanted to say. He wanted to scream, yell, beg to whoever listened so Mac could never end up hurt. Ever again. This time it was one close call too much.

It was always Mac that took the brunt when Jack couldn't do his job. It was Jack not feeling up to drive and Mac way too happy to take over the wheel, both literally and figuratively. Jack handed him the keys to the rental KIA they had for this op. Someday Jack would wonder about KIAs and how they ended up destroying them as rentals, but today wasn't that day.

It was always Mac that ended up hurt when Jack wasn't on top of his game. When Jack wasn't able to protect Mac, Mac ended up hurt. He was his Overwatch, he should be able to do that in his sleep even.

A logical part of Jack's brain told him that he was in no way able to predict that they'd end up in a car crash or that Mac would be driving the car. It wasn't like he could stop the car that reared them. But the guilt eating at him was the voice that was currently winning.

It should have been him.

There was also the fact that Riley wasn't able to find any info on the guys that followed them. It was like they weren't even there. The first car that followed them wasn't where they left it when LAPD arrived at the scene, and the license plate Jack got from the second one led Riley to a stolen vehicle.

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, fingers scratching his five o'clock shadow. Looking over the LA scapes, wondering what was waiting for them once they got through this. What was next? How many more times would Mac end up hurt? How many more times Jack wouldn't be able to protect him before he lost him forever?

Jack didn't hold the tears this time, head hung low over his chest, the beer slowly warming in his hand as he sobbed his soul and heart out while Mac slept peacefully for a change, unaware of Jack's inner turmoil.

The City of Angels the only witness to Jack's emotional outburst.

…

*ONE WEEK AGO*

Somewhere in Los Angeles.

Address not listed due to a classified Phoenix op.

You know, the usual.

Jack was laughing at something Mac said. They just finished their latest op and were ready to go home and have some beers. Perhaps even a pizza.

Mac was teasing Jack about one of the guys that LAPD just booked. When they came to their nondescript vehicle, a KIA Sephia, the only one that the rental company had that wouldn't have made them look suspicious, Jack looked at the car like it personally offended him. He was a little banged up and it wasn't that he couldn't drive, but Jack thought that maybe today Mac driving didn't sound that bad. The kid had skills and even though Jack didn't get to see Mac behind the wheel often, Jack knew Mac could handle himself.

Jack made sure Mac learned some of those moves by yours truly back in the Sandbox and when they went to the ranch on their leaves before they came back. Then Mac moved back to Cali and Jack followed suit.

Jack teaching Mac driving techniques was the least he could do for the kid, after Mac saved his ass all those times he came close to dying. He owed it to that blond and scrawny golden retriever with his puppy dog blue eyes that made his way into Jack's heart and stayed there. All it took was some months for Jack to realize that and he wasn't the same after. He even promised his pops that he'd take care of the kid for as long as he could.

It went without saying that some of the moves he learned from Jack Sr. himself, and Jack felt like he was giving Mac a part of himself that Mac could continue giving on later in life when he had a girl or a boy of his own.

Jack shook his head. It wasn't the time nor the place to think of a future that wasn't sure for either of them. Right now all he could feel was the kick he got to his gut and those to his ribs and sides as well as all the aches of the muscles he used to fight the bad guys of the week.

"Hey Mac?"

Mac turned to look at him. He tilted his head the way it made him look like a puppy. Jack had to stop comparing his partner with puppies.

"What are you smiling at?"

"It ain't nothin'. Listen, I have to ask you something."

"Let me guess. You want me to drive."

"You readin' my mind or something?"

"Nah, it's enough for you to speak and I know. Your accent is getting thicker when you are tired or in pain. My guess is you are a little bit of both. C'mon, I'll be your chauffeur today."

"You know, you should never reveal people's tells in their faces, hoss. Thought they taught you that in spy school."

"Hm, yeah, it's possible. It doesn't make the fact that I'm right be less true, Jack."

"I just thought it was nigh time for ya' to practice those evasive driving skills, hoss. Nothin' more."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Hey, I'm still as good as new."

"Yeah, with a few new nicks and dents. You are slacking in your old age, Jack."

"You wound me, MacGyver. I'm not slackin', it's just that dumbass there that got a few good kicks. My whole body is aching, dude."

"C'mon, give me the keys. I'll drive us to the rental and we'll call Riley or Bozer to pick us up."

"Sweet."

...

Mac grinned once he caught the keys Jack threw at him over the roof of the car. They switched places, and Mac slid into the driver's seat like he always belonged there.

Mac fastened his seat belt and adjusted the seat a bit. He started the engine and shifted gears, putting the car in reverse and then straightening it up. For a while everything was calm, except Jack flicking through radio channels to find the perfect one that played '80s rock and filling the space with endless chatter.

That's when Mac noticed they were followed.

He gulped. It could be nothing, just him being paranoid, but after he took three wrong turns and the two, obviously unmarked and inconspicuous black sedans Mac noticed, followed them, Mac knew that he wasn't seeing things.

Mac gripped the steering wheel tighter and took a sharp turn. The road they were on was going to take them right to I-405. For what Mac was about to do, he needed the space the interstate provided. His brain was already thinking of the possibilities they had.

"Jack, I need you to fasten your seatbelt and do as I say. Don't ask me why I'm gonna do what I'm about to do. Just hold on tight and look if we are too close to hitting someone else than the two sedans that are following us."

Jack looked at Mac, confused at what Mac was saying, but he noticed the two cars following suit as Mac accelerated. There were few cars between their car and the sedans and Mac managed to evade them. Then he braked. Hard.

Jack did as Mac told him, but the move jostled him and he hissed.

"Mac? What the hell, man?"

"Sorry, sorry. Jack, hold on tight."

Mac shifted the gear and put the car in reverse. Jack couldn't help but turn around to see what Mac was doing.

They were approaching the sedans, fast, and Jack thought that they would hit them. He braced for impact when in the last second possible Mac swerved and one of the sedans flew by and slammed into the road bend, smoke billowing around the car. The other car was still going top speed, and just passed them, but Jack noticed the sedan turning course just as Mac took a sharp U-turn and drove back to the direction they came in from.

"Hoss, stop for a sec somewhere. Let me take over."

Mac looked from the road to Jack.

"There's no time for that, Jack. They are going to catch up to us and we can't risk it. I think there are two, possibly three guys in the car that's going after us. Besides, if things get tight, you are in the perfect position."

"Riding shotgun? Not my brightest moment, I have to admit."

"You are the man with the gun, Jack."

Jack nodded in acknowledgement.

"So, what's the plan?"

"We are going to get into regular traffic again. I'm not sure what their plan is, but whatever they need us for or whatever they need from us, they haven't started shooting, yet. I doubt they'd start when we are in a highly populated area."

Mac kept his foot on the gas pedal and swiftly maneuvered the car through the LA traffic. It was close to rush hour so it was filling steadily with vehicles. Mac noticed Jack glancing at him every once in a while, subtly of course, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the guys following them and on the road ahead.

At first Mac thought that Jack was going to insist for Mac to pull over and switch places, again, but he knew his partner trusted Mac, so trust wasn't the issue.

"What?"

"Nothing escapes ya', Mac." Jack shook his head.

"Not when I know someone is looking at me. Intently. What is it?"

"You gotta tell me where you learned that move you made on the freeway. Seriously that was sick, dude. But hella risky."

Mac giggled and in no time he was howling in laughter as Jack stared at him like he grew two heads. Mac had to admit it was probably the adrenaline and the fear of those guys catching up to them that made him laugh. He quickly sobered up, although he was still smiling.

"You really don't know?"

"Know what?" Jack inquired.

"You are really getting old. I learned it from the best. You."

Jack gaped at Mac as Mac took another sharp turn and honks followed them as Mac straightened the car again.

"You used to do that all the time. Remember when we had to hotwire that truck in Kabul to evade the group gone rogue chasing us? You did that and when you swerved they went right past us and hit that house that was rigged to explode. The one we were scheduled to check next."

Jack looked pensive as he tried to remember.

"And there's that another time in Serbia when we got that Zastava 101 as an undercover vehicle and you maxed it to 160 km/h before you realized you could drive us into a ditch and you had their Jeep go into that ditch instead, using that move."

It seemed to work as Jack finally remembered.

"Darn it, hoss, I had no idea you picked up that particular move. I haven't done that in a while."

"Oh, I picked so much from you, Jack. I just don't always get the chance to show you my skills."

"As long as I'm doing the drivin', I like you ridin' shotgun, thank you very much."

Mac smiled. Jack took his driving seriously and if it was up to him, Mac wouldn't have to drive at all. It was just the way Jack rolled. It warmed Mac up, Jack's protectiveness was something Mac came to identify as one of Jack's ways of showing love.

They were nearing an intersection when Jack noticed the guys with the sedan approaching them faster, accelerating, as they neared the traffic light. He tapped Mac on the hand and Mac looked towards what Jack showed him. Perhaps they expected them to stop at the light and then bench them. Mac calculated their possibilities, but neither involved stopping.

Mac and Jack looked at each other at the same time. Jack nodded, and as the light turned red, Mac gripped the wheel tight, exhaled, and floored the car.

He didn't see the car that was coming on his left before it was too late. From then on it was like Mac was seeing things in slow motion although it was impossible with the speed they were going at. Fear gripped his heart because no matter what, the car was going to end up crashing in them. Mac had the split second to brace himself for impact, and on instinct he reached with his right arm to protect Jack from the hit.

The car slammed into them a second later. There was a sickening pop when his arm took the brunt of the car hitting them. The pain was instant and flooded all his senses. Mac couldn't scream because he was trying to focus on breathing through the pain. Besides, they were still moving and trying to steer the car with one hand was proving to be difficult in the situation he found himself in. The airbag exploded in his face next, and there were glass shards flying everywhere from the side window.

Mac could feel more than he could see their car spin until they stopped suddenly. They hit the road bend and the car ended up driving through it and jamming into a street sign.

Mac was jostled around before he stopped moving altogether seconds after the car stopped. He groaned as his legs got jammed under the dash. Again, blinding pain and he couldn't scream.

Mac could hear Jack groaning and moving about next to him, but Mac couldn't move to help him. He was stuck. Mac blinked a few times, but couldn't chase away the black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

Mac thought he could hear Jack's voice calling his name, but everything was too much. Mac just wanted to close his eyes. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt too much if he went to sleep.

The last thing before he lost consciousness was Jack's desperate yell of "Mac".

…

Mac didn't know what hurt more, trying to make his vocal cords work so he could tell Jack to turn off the lights on the deck, or trying to move in a comfortable position. That tackle Mac did to get their suspect left him hurting for days.

Mac must have groaned because he felt a feather light touch on his shoulder. He had trouble opening his eyes, but Mac quickly noticed that what seemed to be the deck was actually the seat of a car. And the brightness assaulting his already closed eyes was probably the sun shining directly in his eyes.

Mac wanted to ask Jack to block the sun because it was seriously giving him a headache. A splitting one, judging by the way even his lashes hurt when Mac tried to blink.

Mac was coming to consciousness slowly, also noticing the warm touch never left his shoulder. There was a light thump on the roof of the car as Jack spit a familiar word that made Mac smile. Jack cussing always made Mac smile. His face when Mac was the one that was saying the "fucks" was priceless. Mac grinned.

"C'mon hoss, what has you grinning like this? You dreamin' of something? Open your eyes and tell me about it. Don't keep me in the dark."

The hand on his shoulder worked rhythmically, thumb rubbing softly over where Mac's shoulder was locked and tense. Mac started relaxing and leaned towards the touch. It was familiar. Safe.

Jack.

Then it all came crashing at him, and Mac had to giggle at the pun his brain cooked up just now. He knew Jack would have a field day if-

"JACK!"

Mac opened his eyes and the harsh light had him closing them tightly before he opened them slower this time.

Mac tried to move in his haste to get to Jack, instantly being reminded he was stuck and suddenly everything started hurting. The touch on his shoulder gripped harder, grounding him, and Mac relaxed minutely. He was able to make out Jack's voice above all the noise surrounding them and the buzzing in his ears.

But then Mac glanced to his right, where he noticed the weird angle at which his right arm was standing. Definitely broken. If Mac had to guess, he'd say it was shattered, not just broken.

An experimental move proved him right as he all but howled in pain.

"Jack."

"Hey, hoss." Jack's voice sounded wobbly. "I was scared there for a moment. You didn't respond to my voice. Uh, I don't even know where I can touch you right now."

"'M stuck. Can't move. What-" Mac cleared his throat. "I … are you 'kay?"

"I'm not the one that took the direct hit and is stuck in the car, Mac." Mac could practically inhale Jack's worry.

"Please… J'ck."

"I'm fine, hoss, not a scratch."

Mac snorted.

"Okay, a few scratches. But seriously Mac, I'm fine. You should be the only one you worry about now. Can you tell me what hurts the most?"

"Arm."

"Fuck."

Jack cussing was never a good sign. Do not get him wrong, Mac was used to Jack's mouth running expletives when a horse broke through the fence or the tractor wouldn't start, but in a regular situation, cussing was a sign that things were bad.

Mac could see the look in Jack's eyes. Look that Mac recognized as one of his own. A look Mac found it often in his eyes, reflecting his wish to help, but still figuring out how he could do that. The look Mac had when he was trying to work out how to fix things. When he was cooking up a plan. He had to give Jack something to do other than look like the car offended him personally.

"Jack?"

"Yes."

"Can you… can you find something to make a splint with?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Jack took off in finding supplies for a splint, a lifetime of having to make one to stabilize injuries on his men ingrained the knowledge and years spent with Mac taught him how to make it out of anything he could find that was useful.

Mac reclined on the seat, aching. Giving Jack a task? That was the easy part. The hard part was going to be to stabilize his arm. It was going to hurt. And Mac hated to put it on Jack, but it was going to be either that or the risk of Mac moving it and damaging it further.

Jack was back before long and set to work on it.

Mac tried not to scream, breathing through the pain but when Jack moved his arm to adjust the splint, Mac screamed.

"Easy, easy, hoss. Breathe. I know it hurts, but you have to breathe. C'mon."

Mac could feel his pulse hammering in his arm as he breathed. Slowly, the haze of pain lifted. But Mac found he couldn't keep his eyes open.

"Stay awake, Mac. You have to stay awake."

"I jus' wanna sleep."

"Oh no, no, no. Open your eyes, Mac."

…

Mac didn't know how long he was out this time, but Jack's panicky voice was what roused him. Jack was calling, no, he was yelling for an ambulance and help. Mac hissed as he moved and it seemed like Jack was wired to every sound of distress Mac made because next thing Jack's hand was back on his shoulder.

"Easy there, hoss. Don't move. Help is on its way. You'll be okay."

Mac slowly blinked his eyes open. Everything was blurry and his vision was red at the corner of his left eye. Mac wondered what it was when Jack reached up with his thumb and wiped the spot. Jack kept his hand on Mac's cheek and Mac leaned into the warm touch. His temple spiked in pain and Jack moved his thumb around the spot, easing the hurt he knew Mac must have been feeling.

Mac blinked a few more times and his vision cleared enough to zero in on Jack's worried face.

"There ya' go. Open those baby blues. Let me see 'em. That's right, Mickey Blue Eyes."

"I'm hardly Hugh Grant, Jack." And Mac would have shook his head if the movement wasn't going to make everything hurt tenfold. For now he settled on a smile.

Jack grinned at Mac's quip, even Mac recognized Jack's attempt to check for his cognitive functions. They went past the boring questions everyone always asked and developed a system of their own where they had a movie quote or an actor and his role as recognizance technique.

"You are lucky you have eidetic memory, kid."

Mac chuckled, but when that pulled a grimace out of him, Jack shushed him.

"Take it easy."

There was something in Jack's eyes that Mac wasn't able to decipher, but he couldn't focus on that since another thought sneaked in his brain.

"Jack, what… what happened with the car that followed us? Did you get them?"

"I got their license plate. The bastards stopped and watched me try to get to you and then just upped and left. That's when you woke up the first time. I have Riley trying to trace the plate and she has hacked in the traffic cams and DMV for information."

"They probably ditched the car by now…"

"Don't you worry your pretty head about it, brother. We got this. All you have to do is hang tight until the guys with more experience in medicine come to us."

Mac exhaled. His chest was tight, but not overly so. Mac guessed two, probably three busted ribs. His face felt like it was sprayed with chilli powder. Probably the airbag that exploded in his face.

Looking to his right, Mac could see his arm secured in the makeshift sling Jack made. He was grateful for his partner and his help.

He tried to move it to assess the level of movement and he had to bite his tongue when the pain hit.

"Don't move your arm. Don't." Jack was panicking again as he reigned Mac in with his hand on Mac's shoulder, the other one hovering right above Mac's broken arm.

"'Kay, that was a mistake. Shit."

"Shit is an understatement, hoss. Shit is when Maribel breaks through the stall and I have to use one of your doohickeys to fix the hinges. And my mama always has my hide because her best mare escaped again. This? This is shit multiplied by ten."

Mac managed a tight-lipped smile. Maribel was one of the most stubborn mares the Dalton ranch had. She loved Mac and always perked up when Mac visited. What Mac wouldn't have given to be at the ranch right now.

"I can't believe imma say this… you are right."

"Admitting I'm right won't bite you. So. How are we doing on cataloguing your injuries?"

"How-? You know, never mind."

"I could see the wheels turning in that big brain'a yours."

Jack's accent was more prominent as he got more worried about Mac. Jack gouged the visible injuries himself, but what wasn't visible was always more dangerous.

"Two or three busted ribs, don't have to tell you about my arm. A-and, um, my face."

"Yeah that's a nasty gash you have there."

"Gash?"

"Oookay. Sorry for that."

"What gash, Jack?"

Jack exhaled and thumbed at the place near Mac's eye that hurt the most and still throbbed.

"I managed to staunch the bleeding, but couldn't remove the glass. I was afraid it would do you more harm than good."

"Oh, God."

"If it was a few inches to the left…"

Mac closed his eyes and swallowed back tears of frustration.

"Hey, Mac. You didn't finish up on your injury report. Don't stop now."

"My… my legs are stuck. I can't move them."

Jack winced as he took another look of the mangled mess that was the car wreck with Mac in it. Something caught his eye and Jack had to quell the panic that threatened to rise in his throat.

"Listen, Mac. Do me a favor, bud. Take off your belt, slowly. Can you do that?"

Mac squinted at Jack questioningly. "Yeah. Why? Don't tell me you are gonna use the belt to pull the door open."

"Nah, I don't think it will work out that way. I need it for something else."

Mac did as Jack told him and gave the belt to Jack.

"We are both going to have to do this, alright? You have a laceration on your left thigh where your leg is stuck under the dash."

Mac's eyes were immediately drawn to the spot Jack motioned to. Blood was leaking out of a cut that was too close to comfort for Mac. Jack must have noticed it wasn't going to stop on its own so the next best thing was a tourniquet.

Jack was the epitome of calm during the whole process and there was a collective sigh when Jack was done fastening the belt.

That's when Mac made a realization. All things considered, it could have been worse. But his legs. He couldn't move them.

Things started catching up to him, Mac felt the burning sensation coursing through his broken arm, the gash on his temple, the small cuts from the flying glass.

Jack seemed to notice the change in Mac and moved to hold Mac's shoulder, his hand moving slightly towards the side of Mac's neck, to where his pulse point was. His pulse was jackrabbiting and Mac could hear his heart beating in his ears.

Jack was speaking, softly, but Mac couldn't hear him over the noise in his head.

How was Jack so calm?

"Mac, can you move your legs at all? Apart from where they are stuck, your feet, your toes, anything?"

Mac shook his head frantically and tried not to let the panic win over. His eyes were rapidly filling with tears and he was faintly aware of a sharp sting and then something wet sliding down his cheek.

"Stop, hoss. Stop thrashing."

Jack was pleading with him, that much Mac could understand, but the pull of the black dots dancing in front of his eyes, again, was luring Mac in.

…

Jack was faintly aware of the sirens reaching them as he tried to stop the bleeding. Mac moving around probably dislodged the piece of glass embedded in Mac's temple, and next thing Jack knew, precious liquid was leaving Mac.

Once Mac lost consciousness again, Jack wanted to scream.

When you are as long as Jack Dalton is in the business you learn to cope with things so they don't get to you. Missions go bad, you lose people, everyday tasks can go awry real fast. But when you are also Jack Dalton, you just know that you can't stop caring for those people, for those missions. Jack learned it the hard way that if you let emotions rule you in a situation where emotions can kill you, it can go bad six ways from Sunday in a second. What they didn't tell him when he enlisted back when he was barely legal to drink, was that the bomb nerd with the silly hamburger name would barge in his life and stay there, no matter how the kid always expected that one day Jack would just disappear on him.

Jack and Mac had been in a situation where they almost lost their lives so many times, Jack lost count. He remembered the important ones, though. Although he was sure Mac had a full list somewhere in a drawer in his brain.

Cairo was the one mission they never spoke about. Surely, they joked around when the topic was broached, and Riley and Bozer tried to get it out of them a few times, but Jack didn't trust himself and his reaction if he ever got to tell that story to someone else.

Living through that hell was enough.

Right now, there was a new level of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach, and it gripped so hard, Jack could feel some of his internal organs protesting at the notion. The kid was bleeding like a gutted pig all over his hands and Jack didn't know what to do.

Jack was panicking, he could feel himself start shaking and tears were blurring his vision after he frantically called Mac's name time a dozen and checked for a pulse so many times, he was not sure he actually found it.

Usually Jack was calm during these situations. Making sure Mac was okay, safe, and if he was injured, that his injury had been taken care of and then he would allow himself to break. But there was something about this crash that rattled Jack so hard, he couldn't find it in him to stop and regroup.

His kid needed him, damn it!

Jack was faintly aware of the hands that moved him from side to side until he was sitting on a cold surface with his head between his legs and a calm voice guiding him through the panic.

Only after he was able to regulate his breathing where his chest wasn't constricting, and he could feel the actual hot asphalt he was currently sitting on, was Jack able to look up and take in his surroundings.

The medical jargon thrown around while the paramedics worked around the car and the delay in Fire and Rescue's arrival were put to a background noise; as the person that dragged him away and clearly stopped him from spiralling, spoke again.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Jack nodded. He wasn't sure he'd muster anything more than that at the moment. But the woman, currently glaring at him behind her glasses, was determined not to be placated.

"I'm okay."

"Now that's better."

"It's Jack. Sir makes me feel like I'm in the army all over again."

"Done deal. As long as you call me Maureen."

Jack could finally feel like he was coming around and smiled at the woman with warm eyes. She must have seen lots of scenes like this one and was used to people freaking out all the time.

"Now Jack, what can you tell me about our patient?"

…

After that, it was easier to breathe. Sort of. There was a weight stomping on Jack's chest ever since the car crashed, and Jack knew it wouldn't let up until Mac was in a hospital and taken care of. But it was easier because he was allowed to take a breath now, be there for his kid while letting the pros do their job. Field medicine went only that far before Jack wouldn't know what to do to help Mac anymore.

Jack relayed what happened to Maureen, all the injuries Mac sustained that they were able to assess by themselves, all the while keeping an eye on the still unconscious kid.

"Okay, that gash on his temple is taken care of for the moment, but it will need stitches. If I have to guess, it'll scar. But that's the least of our worries."

"He's bleeding from a cut on his left thigh. At least he was. I tried to stop it using his belt."

"Makeshift tourniquet. Learn that in the army, Jack?"

"Sort of."

Jack was thinking of all the things Mac could use the belt for, but that he couldn't tell her - half of those things were part of a classified mission.

"Something tells me there's an interesting story behind that, but you are not at liberty to discuss it, right?"

"Look at ya', you could be a detective."

"My husband is one, I picked up some of it throughout the years. And your accent says… Texas."

"Born and bred." Jack grinned. He was immensely grateful for this woman that wasn't trying to placate him and treat him like he didn't understand the severity of the situation.

"What brings you to Cali, Jack?"

Maureen was working on stabilizing Mac's legs and the bleeding while she let Jack ramble about his decision to move to California. It was good for her, too. Work in complete silence wasn't her forte. Something about sounds mixing up and drowning out made her focus and do her job better.

"So what you are saying is, you followed our Sleeping Beauty here to LA?"

"Pretty much yeah. I promised not to leave him. As long as I live and I'm able? I'm gonna keep that promise. I'm gonna protect him."

"Then he is lucky to have you in his life, Jack."

Jack looked at Mac's unmoving form and a new rush of fondness for the kid came flooding through his system.

"Yeah, I think luck's on my side for that one. You can call him my lucky charm. Saved me so many times. He's a great kid."

Maureen kept working while Jack stared longingly at the young man that was currently unconscious and jammed under the dash.

"You did a great job with the belt though. The bleeding has stopped, and looks like there's no major arterial or venous damage so I think that as long as he doesn't move the leg too much, he'll be okay."

"He couldn't move them earlier. His legs, I mean. That's what triggered this." Jack motioned to the blood that came from the gash on Mac's forehead.

"I think that's largely due to the position in which they are. The blood flow has been cut off and the blood couldn't circulate right. He doesn't have any spinal injuries. Not any that I've been able to see. Adrian, what's the status with you there?"

Adrian was the other paramedic working on Mac's arm. It was a testament of how much Mac was out of it that he didn't even groan when Adrian poked at the tender skin.

"Definitely broken in multiple places. Can't assess the damage so I suggest we stabilize the arm as much as we can and let the orthopedic surgeon deal with it. Great job on the sling."

"His idea, I just followed."

"Well, Jack, you did good."

"Jack…"

Mac chose that moment to open his eyes and there was a momentary panic because of the cervical collar around his neck, which Jack caught on to immediately. Mac was halfway through touching it when Jack intercepted his hand and took it in his.

"Easy, hoss, it's just a precaution. Don't touch it."

"But it's… J'ck, you are here."

"Always, Mac. You back with me now?"

"Yeah… sorry I clocked out on you earlier."

"Not your fault, hoss. But I'll tell you what. This time you hang on for me. These two did a great job patching you up as much as they can until the docs can fix you."

"Okay."

…

Mac hoped his smile was reassuring for Jack, because he was feeling pretty shaky. Everything hurt and he was damn tired of sitting in the same position for… Mac had no idea how long.

There was a moment where the two paramedics introduced themselves to Mac and a small talk was ensued. Mac could feel Jack's hand trembling in his and a cursory look to the man gave Mac the answers he needed.

The look in Jack's eyes was determined. Wanting to fix all of Mac's problems, and currently, trying to convince himself that Mac was going to be okay. It was far from okay, but Jack didn't look as tense as Mac knew Jack could be.

Jack sensed Mac watching him and he squeezed Mac's hand, giving Mac a hopeful smile and a warm look.

"Thank you, Jack."

"Don't mention it."

There was another set of sirens that indicated the arrival of the Fire and Rescue.

Mac nodded throughout the whole exchange between them, the paramedics and the Fire Captain. Jack listened intently, that much Mac could see and he squeezed Jack's hand every once in a while. Was it to assure himself or Jack that things were going to be okay, Mac didn't know.

Once the firefighters pulled out the "jaws of death" to cut through the door so they could get Mac out of the car, they tried to move Jack out of their path. That's when Mac started to panic again and squeezed Jack's palm so hard he could feel Jack flinch through the force of the grip Mac held his hand with. Mac tried to pull his hand away, but Jack was the one holding on now and glaring at anyone trying to separate them.

Mac wanted to laugh. Jack using his "Delta Glare" as Mac dubbed it a long time ago, it was always fun to watch when it worked.

"I want him to stay." Mac said then and that's when everyone wordlessly agreed to let Jack stay.

…

A random hospital in Los Angeles

Jack didn't catch the name

Jack thought that his future nightmares would consist of Mac screaming as he was pulled out of the car and the pressure of the dash having his legs in a lock, gave way to the pain. Driving in the back of the ambulance he tried to give Mac as much comfort as he could, rubbing soothing circles to his left shoulder with one hand, while with the other he kept sweaty strands of blond hair out of Mac's eyes.

After an IV was set and Mac was stabilized, Jack's hand found its way back in Mac's. Squeezing in reassurance that everything would be okay and that Jack was there for him. Mac kept a brave face that Jack knew was just a cover for how much he was hurting, but didn't want to worry Jack further.

Mac was whisked immediately behind the closed doors of the ER and Jack was left to wait. It was easy to forget they were not in Phoenix Med and that no amount of begging would get him to Mac's side.

What hurt the most was the look on Mac's eyes as he was taken away from Jack. The hand that was forcibly removed from Jack's grip, the tears in Mac's eyes and the fear and panic in those blue eyes. A look that Jack was sure would haunt him until he could make sure Mac was okay.

Mac was scared and Jack wasn't there for him.

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was in the waiting room, but he felt like if he sat down to wait, it wouldn't do him any good. Jack looked at his hands that were still covered in blood, from when he tried to stop the cut on Mac's temple from bleeding too much. Most of it was already dried, but Jack could feel it like it was spilled on his hands just now.

Jack located the first bathroom and shut himself in it. He turned the faucet on and let the water wash away the blood. He used a liberal amount of soap and rinsed them repeatedly until his hands were scrubbed raw and they were pink and pruny.

Jack tapped the lid of the faucet and wiped his hands with paper towels. He took a good look of himself in the mirror and realized that he had some cuts on his face and neck from the crash himself and one of them bled a bit. He wet a paper towel and cleaned himself the best he could. He was good as long as the docs focused themselves on Mac and not on him. There were shadows in his eyes, and dark smudges that stretched down to his cheeks.

Jack closed his eyes. He inhaled. Then exhaled. There was a lump in his throat threatening to turn into a sob. But Jack pushed it down. It was not the time to break down. Not yet.

There was a sting in his side from where one of the guys they took down kicked him earlier today. Or was it still today? The mission felt like it happened days ago instead of just a few hours. One of his ribs was bothering him, but Jack welcomed the pain. He deserved it. He wasn't strong enough to man up to drive instead of letting Mac be the one driving. His decision brought Mac in this position, and to feel the pain was a reminder he failed.

Jack knew that rationally if he was the one driving, it would be him in that OR and Mac worrying about him, but that wasn't the point. Realistically there was no way to know if things would have turned for the worse or for the better if Jack was behind the wheel. But his guilt was louder. It was telling him he failed. That he let his kid get hurt.

Jack could feel the wetness clumping at his lashes and he blinked it, refusing to let the tears out, but they didn't listen to his orders. He couldn't cry. Mac didn't need him crying. What Mac needed was Jack to be there, by his side. What if Mac needed him and Jack wasn't there to reassure him? Jack could count on the fingers of one hand the times Mac woke up in a hospital bed without Jack present at his bedside. And all those times Jack was physically prevented by an injury.

Jack was mad at himself. For not functioning normally and letting himself to show weakness. To admit defeat. Because now when he should be the strongest of all, to support them all, he couldn't compose himself. What did that say about himself?

Jack slid to the bathroom floor and leaned his head against the cool tiles while tears ran freely down his cheeks. It was futile to try to stop them now.

He hadn't prayed in a while, Jack realized. He rarely did, because in their line of work it took a little bit more than just a prayer to get things done, but suddenly he felt the urge to pray. To ask the Big Man to look after his kid and for everything to turn out well for him. Mac was young and tough, but shit could hit the fan pretty quickly and Jack needed something more than luck and the doctors currently helping Mac.

Jack didn't realize he had closed his eyes and probably fell asleep until he felt the phone in his pocket vibrating. Then it started ringing and Jack was brought back to the here and now with the familiar ringtone he had set to know when Matty called.

"Matty…" was all that got out before Jack was full on sobbing. And once the flood started, there was no stopping the tears, the regret and the guilt from pouring out.

Half an hour and a breakdown later, with Matty trying to talk him out of going deep into his head, Jack felt better. Not about himself and what happened, but he was determined not to let it get in the way of him helping Mac and being there for him.

He got up and straightened his clothes. They were a bit dirty and bloody, but otherwise he looked okay. Haggard maybe, but nothing too scary. Jack felt dizzy and he had to hold himself on the vanity for a second until he didn't feel like he was going to expel his breakfast.

Making sure he looked presentable and put together, Jack exited the bathroom.

…

Jack was back to the waiting room to find two familiar faces sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Both Riley and Bozer looked up when they heard him approach and Jack wasn't ready for what happened next.

Both of them flung themselves at him, embracing him and holding on for dear life. He hesitated for a moment but then he wrapped his arms, one around Riley and the other around Bozer and hugged them as tight as he could without hurting them.

Jack didn't know he needed the comfort of his kids in his arms and usually they didn't do group hugs, but he felt oddly happy and proud that they decided to put everything aside and hug him. God knew he didn't deserve it, but he promised himself and Mac not to think like that. He'd take all he could get at this moment no matter if it was just drawing strength from them.

It took him all of his willpower not to lose his shit in front of them. He didn't want to worry them. Being worried about Mac was bad enough, but he didn't think he could take it if Riley and Bozer worried about him, too.

"He's going to be okay, Jack." He heard Bozer speak into his shoulder.

"Yeah, I know Boze."

Jack relished in the hug, but soon he started to feel dizzy again and listed a bit until Riley felt him moving and grabbed him before he could hit the floor.

"Jack, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, darlin', I'm fine."

Riley directed him to one of the chairs and Jack sat in it dutifully, feeling like he was about to be scolded by both Bozer and Riley.

"Did you get checked out after they took Mac to surgery?" Riley asked.

"And before you say you are fine, may I remind you that you and Mac were just in a car crash and from what Mac relayed to Matty when the arrest was made, you took a beating. Nothing over the top, but it was clearly enough to sideline you to ride shotgun." Bozer continued.

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but Bozer raised his index finger to stop him.

"I'm not done. You never, ever, let any of us drive unless it's for the needs of the mission or you are hurt and you just can't. So don't try to fool me or Riley."

"Bozer is right, Jack. You are not fine. And judging by that look you have in your eyes, I'm assuming you feel guilty for Mac winding up in the hospital. Am I right?"

Jack looked from Bozer to Riley and back again, and wondered when did his kids become so perceptive.

"You know in some law systems in the past and some even in the present, silence was taken as an affirmative? Looks to me like Riley's right." Bozer remarked.

"What?" Jack had a hard time following what they were saying. Now that he had some time to sit and recoup, he felt a headache coming on. Or maybe it was there all the time, but Jack didn't pay attention to it before now.

"Seriously, man, if Mac was here, he'd tell you that it wasn't your fault. And he'd be right because it wasn't."

"You don't know that!" Jack suddenly yelled and felt the headache pound behind his eyes. "Sorry… I didn't mean to yell."

"We know." Riley put a gentle hand on his shoulder and Jack looked up. "You know what else Mac wouldn't want you to do? Act like a tough guy while you are hurting. You should get checked out."

He looked into two pairs of worried brown eyes. Jack knew they were right, that he should have gone to get checked out. And it wasn't fair they pulled the Mac card on him. They knew it would get to him. And that it was true. Mac would tell him the same and wouldn't budge until Jack was checked out and there weren't any serious injuries and he was patched up.

"Okay." Jack relented. "I'll get checked out, but as soon as I'm done there, I'm coming back here to wait for the doc."

"Deal. Me and Riley will hold the fort."

"Yeah, Jack. Go."

Jack took one last look of Bozer and Riley and went.

…

"What's the verdict?" Riley was the first to ask when Jack returned to the waiting room.

Jack sighed as he lowered himself in one of the chairs.

"Light concussion and two busted ribs. Some bruises. And a hell of a headache. But it goes without saying I'll have one. I'd be willing to bet I have new white hairs from today."

Jack tried for a joke, but it fell flat. At least he tried.

"Oh yeah. Don't blame Mac for being an old man." Riley joked back, and it made Jack chuckle.

"Thank you, Ri. Boze."

"Hey, don't mention it. We worry about him, too, you know."

"Yeah… I know."

They waited in silence. Jack was exhausted, and between the headache and the worry he was too wired to even attempt a nap.

Before long a doctor approached the waiting room.

He looked around and when he set sight on Jack, Bozer and Riley, he approached them.

"Are you here for Angus MacGyver?"

Jack was the first to get up and come closer to the doctor.

"Yes, how is he?"

"Are you a family?"

Jack was floored by the question, again used to Phoenix Med where they just knew they could share the state Mac was in with Jack, no questions asked.

"We work together." Bozer piped in. "And we are the closest he has to a family."

"I'm sorry, but unless you are a family member I can't disclose any information on my patient."

Jack saw red.

"I'm Jack Dalton. His partner and next of kin. And power of attorney for that matter. Do you need an ID to go with it or you are going to tell me what the hell is going on with Mac?"

"Sir, I'm gonna ask you to-"

"You want his family? Then let me tell you about them. His mom is six feet under and his dad is God knows where. We are all the family he's ever had and known."

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He shouldn't have had this outburst, but the comment about family got to him and he couldn't stop.

"Look, I'm sorry. But he is my best friend, my brother, hell I think of him as my own son 90% of the time, so it's tough for me to sit here and not be there next to his bed, waiting for him to wake up. You know when's the last time he woke up without me watching over him?"

Just then a nurse came to them, out of breath.

"Which one of you is Jack?"

"It's me." Jack stepped forward.

"He's asking for you."

Jack looked at the doctor expectantly. He didn't know what it was that broke the resolve. Jack didn't know what his face or eyes showed to him, but it must have been convincing since he motioned for Jack to follow him.

...

As Jack walked away, Riley and Bozer looked at each other and smirked. Jack was a force to be reckoned with when Mac was okay and on a regular day. When Mac was hurt, and on days when nothing seemed right, the fury in his eyes and the worry in his voice as well as his determination were enough to break everyone's resolve from trying to keep Jack away from Mac. That included the doctor that was treating Mac.

…

Mac was slowly coming to himself. The antiseptic smell was a dead giveaway they were in a hospital. It wasn't in Phoenix Med, because usually the overhead lights were dimmed by Jack. And when Mac woke up and found the chair next to his bed empty he knew they were somewhere else, because hell would freeze over before Jack was going to stay away from Mac whenever Mac needed medical assistance and had to be monitored. Jack was always there, waiting. Guarding Mac from his position in what Mac dubbed "Jack's" chair from how many times Jack had to sit in it.

The only times Jack wasn't there was when he was hurt himself. Was Jack hurt? Mac tried to think of Jack before Mac was pulled out of the car. They were so focused on him, Mac realized that Mac didn't pay attention to Jack.

Knowing Jack, he could be hurting, but say nothing in favor of Mac getting all the help he needed. And if Mac wasn't there to make sure Jack was taken care of, too, it was highly unlikely Jack would do it himself.

Mac closed his eyes as fast as he opened them, trying to recall if there were any noticeable injuries he could have missed. Not to mention Jack took a beating before they got in the car. That made Mac's worry ramp up a notch.

There were the cuts and scrapes, but also there was blood. Was it his blood on Jack's clothes or Jack's own blood?

Mac's blood froze. What if…?

There was a beeping on his left and then there was a worried voice talking to him. He opened his eyes and noticed a nurse trying to talk to him.

"Jack. Where is Jack?"

"Who?"

"My partner. He was with me in the car. Where is he?"

"Oh, the big scary man with the brown eyes? He is in the waiting room."

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. My colleague patched him up a while ago. He seemed okay."

Mac sighed in relief and smiled at the description the nurse gave him about Jack.

"Don't tell him I said this, but underneath all that bluster, he is a big softie."

"I'll take your word for it."

"What's your name?"

"Maddie."

"Hey, Maddie, can you do me a favor? Can you go and fetch Jack for me? I know he is a mess. He won't believe I'm okay until he sees for himself. He's usually sitting in a chair, waiting for me to wake up when I'm injured. I'm pretty sure he's rattled that he's not allowed to see me, yet."

"Will do. You just rest, okay?"

"'Kay. Thank you."

Few minutes later there was a flurry of steps and Jack entered the room, the doctor and nurse following him. The doctor checked his vitals and after that he and the nurse left Mac and Jack alone.

Finally.

Jack held himself stiffly, although Mac could tell he was relieved to be seeing Mac.

"C'mere big guy, sit down. I need you to be closer to me to be able to look at you."

Jack moved the chair to the foot of the bed and Mac scoffed.

"Closer, Jack not on another continent."

Jack huffed a laugh as he dragged the chair where he could be directly in Mac's line of sight.

"That's better."

Once Jack was situated, Mac noticed Jack kept his hands in his lap. Where Jack would usually initiate contact, keeping a hand on Mac's for reassurance or ruffling his hair, Jack now held himself from doing that. Mac had an idea what that could be about, but didn't know how to broach the subject. He knew Jack blamed himself if Mac even just as much as stubbed his toe.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay, man? Or do I have to call the pretty nurse to check on you?"

"I'm fine."

"That's usually my line."

"That it is. Seriously, I'm fine. Just some bruises… and busted ribs."

"You got yourself looked over while I was out? Well, I'll be damned." Mac was grinning now and he could see the beginning of a smile on Jack's face.

"What can I say? Bozer and Riley can be pretty threatening when they try to represent you while you are not present."

"Oh, I wish I could have seen that. Must have been quite the moment."

"It sure was."

Mac was studying Jack. There was still something Mac couldn't decipher, but his brain wasn't able to pick up on what it was.

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

"I don't know about that, hoss. If I-"

"Stop."

Mac groaned as he tried to move his left arm without jostling the IV too much. He grabbed one of Jack's hands similarly like he did on site before they got him out of the car, and squeezed.

Jack looked up at the contact and Mac held his gaze until Jack squeezed back.

"What would you tell me if our roles were reversed?"

"That's not fair and you know it."

"It's the truth, Jack. It's not your fault. You couldn't have known. And if you can't do something, no matter what it is, or the reason for it, you are not weak for not being able to. Do you understand?"

"I'm not sure how you can think of that when it was me who…"

"Were you the one that drove through a red light?"

"No."

"And did you drive the car that hit us?"

"That's another no. I don't know what that has to do anything with-"

"It has everything to do with you feeling guilty that I'm in the hospital and you weren't able to prevent that. Let's face it, Jack, if it was you that drove us, it would be me in that chair. What would you say to me?"

"That this wasn't on you."

"Then? Why are you still looking like a kicked puppy?"

"Hey, now, I look nothing like a puppy."

Mac laughed at the look on Jack's face. There was a real smile on Jack's face now and Mac counted it as a win.

"You so do. Especially now. If you could see yourself…"

"Hey, hoss?"

"Mhm?"

"I'm glad you are okay."

"Likewise."

Mac could feel himself drifting off to sleep again, but he had to make sure Jack wasn't going to bolt the first chance he had.

Mac squeezed his hand again.

"Stay?"

"Always."

Mac closed his eyes and as he let sleep to claim him once again, he felt Jack's other hand running through his hair, smoothing over strands of hair. Mac moved towards the touch and smiled.

…

*PRESENT DAY*

Pain is what makes us move forward. What had Nietzsche once said? "What does not kill you, makes you stronger". Or like my grandfather used to say: "What doesn't kill you, makes you wanna get even". Oh wait, I used that one before, right? Well my head is a little woozy, like Jack likes to say often. It's been a week since the crash, and I'm still disoriented.

Mac knew that his brain was playing games with him. He was okay, in his bed, safe and away from cars and bad guys following him. It was just his brain that still hadn't gotten the memo, and decided to give him nightmares.

Mac was careful not to scream, he didn't know why he did that, he was obviously alone, but still, Mac kept his lips tightly shut. Maybe the lingering fear from the nightmare was what had Mac not give in. Maybe because it was that fear that told Mac that if he screamed, the bad guys would find him.

In his thrashing he moved his right arm, as usual the arm that he used to turn on the lamp on the nightstand with, but he forgot that his arm was broken and that's what was the tipping point for Mac. To realize he wasn't in the car anymore, but home. Safe.

Mac shook his head to clear it from the post nap cobwebs. He groaned as he tried to reposition himself where he would hurt the least. Mac knew that the pain made him feel alive most times, but it was damn too much of what his body could endure now. And his mind. He wondered where Jack was. Or Bozer. They were usually in the room whenever Mac woke up, Mac learned to see them as permanent fixtures. Not that it was essentially a bad thing.

Mac's brain was still sleep-muddled and although the doc gave him from the good stuff for the pain, Mac still didn't like how the meds made him feel. There weren't many post-mission injuries that required Mac to take stronger meds, but he hated each and every time when they were an absolute must so he could heal fully. But if he could avoid them, he always did. It was worth powering through the pain, to leave his brain at least a little bit clearer. Not being able to rely on his brain in those times, it made Mac feel paralyzed of sorts. It was tough to battle a too loud brain, PTSD, guilt and occasionally depression and to chase away all the thoughts that crept into your brain until you could not ignore the loud banging and clashing of thoughts and confusion. But he could take it, as long as he didn't have to fight with a fuzzy brain and wake up sated from sleep and wonder what happened every time he did.

The blinds were closed, probably Jack's doing. Mac had lingering effects from the concussion and there was the constant headache and piercing pain/sting on his left temple where the glass nicked him well. Mac couldn't help but feel nauseous every time the lights were too bright or if they were exposed to the sun more than enough. Mac smiled through the haze, Jack always knew what to do to ease Mac's pains, and now was no exception.

…

Mac was always restless in his sleep, it was a miracle that he moved his injured arm only when he thought that they were in trouble. Again, he added that to the effects the meds had on him. Jack would probably say that nine times outta ten he had to tackle octopus limbs when Mac was moving in his sleep and there was a risk for Mac to worsen his injuries.

Mac took a mental catalogue of his injuries again, just like he did that day in the car. His concussion was receding, although it still left the headache and nausea as symptoms. The gash on his temple was healing well and as long as Mac didn't move his head too suddenly, he wasn't feeling any pain or vertigo.

And it wasn't as bad as that one concussion Mac had after what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Mac had trouble focusing, he couldn't turn off the pain even with the good stuff. Jack took care of him then, too. Making sure light didn't hurt his eyes, that it didn't make him feel like he was going to puke every second. The headache was so unbearable that Jack walked in on Mac pulling on his hair to give himself something to focus on other than the headache.

They both didn't sleep well that night, with Mac being awake most of the night, until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, and Jack trying to wave his need for sleep off in favor of his concussed friend. Jack wasn't going to let himself go to sleep while Mac was in that state.

Mac couldn't remember Jack looking so scared before as he did that night. But they overcame that one together.

He had three busted ribs and Mac was lucky they weren't broken. They didn't hurt much, but still they made Mac move stiffly around the house (whenever he was left to actually walk and wasn't escorted by Jack or Bozer).

His legs (actually his thighs) were healing well, too. The cut on his left leg was pulling when Mac walked, but nothing he hadn't experienced before (although Jack would argue otherwise).

His arm was the worst out of the whole situation though.

Mac groaned. He had to stop thinking about his injuries and what happened, and focus on how to fix things. He knew that Jack and Bozer took care of most things and Riley and Leanna visited him at the hospital a few times, Matty coming to see him too. But Jack was the one worrying Mac, out of the whole team. It hurt to watch Jack turn to jokes and smiles to make Mac feel better, like he almost didn't lose it just a week ago.

Mac was feeling guilty that Jack had to pull him out of a dire situation once again, to watch Mac get hurt in one of the worst ways possible, although it was far from the worst either of them had.

(Mac did not think of Cairo. Nope.)

But Mac also felt guilty for driving through a red light. He knew that he was the party at fault, but at the same time they were trying to evade people that were following them and trying to get to them. There were several things that went wrong. Mac drove them to a highly populated area and if by any chance the bad guys started shooting…

Mac shuddered. He didn't want to think of what could have happened then. But he knew how to drive better than what he showed that day. He knew how to escape a near-collision on an intersection. Not that he was supposed to.

Mac felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He wanted to take the duty to drive them home from Jack's shoulders and indeed he drove them to a bend in the road and almost killed himself in the process. Made Jack take care of him. Once again Jack paid because of one of his stupid plans.

Mac closed his eyes. He knew Jack would tell him that he did all he could and all things considered, taking care of Mac wasn't such a feat for Jack, because "Really, you have to say that every time, hoss? We are family, family takes care of each other."

Mac wanted to believe that so bad. He had his friends, his family to help him. He could lean on them.

And he had Jack. Deep down Mac knew that no matter what the outcome of that car crash was, he had Jack to watch over him, because Jack would never break his promise, to be there for him, always.

And if Jack was mad at him, then he had a lousy way of showing that.

One more reason he hated the "good stuff" for. They made him paranoid and hypersensitive.

Mac slowly sat on his bed and thumped his head against the headboard. His bladder made itself known and he groaned because that required moving from the bed. Which Mac didn't want to do because everything would start hurting.

But needs must.

After Mac took care of business he strained his ears to listen for any of his friend's voices. Instead he heard movements coming from the living room. Someone was moving around, looking through things, pacing, stopping every so often. Judging by the steps, it was Jack.

Mac carefully leaned on the crutch and trudged along to the living room.

…

Jack was getting restless as the minutes turned slowly into an hour. Since he cleaned the kitchen and drank his beer on the deck, Jack found himself restless, not knowing what else he could do. He was too wired to nap, and he wanted to stay awake in case Mac needed something.

Jack decided that he should stretch and walk a bit around the house. He convinced himself to treat it as he would a location he had to clear on a mission. Cataloguing everything he saw, all the little details and decorations, some from Mac's grandpa and others, newer, from Bozer and Mac. Few even from Jack himself and Riley.

The polar bear that greeted everyone that entered Mac's house was one of Jack's favorite things about the place. And the sunglasses were Jack's addition. Jack smiled as he remembered his cousin Nick leaving them at his place last time his lab's case overlapped with one of LAPD's one and Nick had to stay the night. Jack used the opportunity and he had to admire his handiwork. The bear looked fancy.

The numerous shelves with all the clutter Mac needed at one time or another that despite being unorganized, it looked perfectly in order, made Jack stop in his tracks. There were few items that were moved since Jack's last visit to Mac's place. And other items in their place. And not just any items. Pictures.

Now, Jack knew Mac wasn't camera shy, there were plenty of pictures of them and of Mac with Bozer, Riley and group pictures. Jack had a whole folder on his Google drive filled with pictures of him and the kids. It beat having to keep them all in his phone, since Mac tended to use Jack's phones for his creations often enough; Jack was left wondering if he'd be able to hold on only one phone for longer than a few weeks at a time.

But Jack didn't mind that. Sure enough, it bothered him, but not if it meant his phone played part in Mac saving the day.

What made Jack wonder, were the pictures that weren't just on the shelves, but on the wall too. Mac rarely kept pictures displayed for everyone to see. And it made something inside Jack shift, because the kid decided it was important to put them out there.

Jack looked at the pictures that dotted the walls. The picture Bozer took of Mac and Jack laughing over the joke Jack cracked when they were out for drinks not long after their discharge. Mac scowling at Bozer trying to steal his paperclips. Riley in a Christmas hat, Jack with Rudolph's red nose while Bozer and Mac had reindeer antlers on their heads.

All of these pictures were waking up warm feelings in Jack. The memories to each and every picture, they were some of the best memories Jack had and to know Mac felt the same about them, and enough to hang them for everyone to see… Jack wiped yet another tear.

Jack kept wandering around the house and something caught his eye at the mantelpiece. There were more framed pictures, but these ones were older. One was of young Mac and Bozer and if Jack had to guess the people on the picture were Bozer's parents. There was one with Harry and several others of Mac at different times of his growing up. Another picture that caught Jack's eye was of Mac and Frankie, if Jack recognized the young girl that was Mac's closest friend at MIT.

Jack had to smile. Mac was truly adorable in all the pictures with a genuine and toothy smile and what Jack had to guess, true happiness despite all the hard blows he's gotten throughout the years.

Jack realized he had a perfect view of what memories his partner had held dear.

Mac was happy in those pictures. He looked so carefree and joyous.

One picture in particular drew Jack's attention. It was Mac, as a toddler, and a woman that Jack didn't need to ask who it was. It was obvious she was Mac's mom. He was a spitting image of her. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a smile so bright it had the force to blind the sun. She had dimples and freckles just like Mac did and the way she posed for the picture, hugging an equally radiant Mac, Jack could see the same birthmark Mac had on the right side, right where his chin and neck were connected, at one of the most vulnerable places on the human body.

"My grandpa took that picture. I was four then."

Mac's voice behind him startled Jack and he involuntarily dropped the frame. It fell on the ground and the glass shattered.

"Damn it."

Jack kneeled to gather the broken glass and save the picture at least when he felt Mac's hand on his shoulder. Jack looked up and there was a look in Mac's eyes Jack couldn't decipher.

"I'm sorry, Mac. I'll get you a new frame."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. I should know better than to sneak up on you." Mac smiled at him.

"I have to agree. Half of the time I feel like my partner is a freaking ninja."

"Sorry. C'mon, let's sit on the couch."

Mac moved slowly to sit on the couch as Jack finished gathering the pieces of glass. For a moment Jack had a flashback to the car crash before he shook his head and chased those thoughts out of his head. He threw the glass and placed the empty frame on the counter. He was sure it'd find its purpose eventually.

Jack brought the picture with him and left it on the table.

"Boze found a box of pictures when he was cleaning the attic the other week. When he opened it, he found some of the pictures I've hung up. There's plenty of pictures still in that box. I figured it wouldn't hurt if I had some on my walls and all over the house. I printed the rest."

"I was wondering myself. You never did that. In all entirety that I've known you, you were never one to do that."

"Lately, there were some things that I put into perspective. All this thing, trying to find my father, running and chasing leads that may not even have a meaning. It made me think. I've been chasing ghosts when I have my family and memories with them to show right here."

Jack looked at Mac and something warm spread through him.

"I'm tired of trying to find answers to questions I don't even know what they are. And connected to someone that thought it was a good idea to leave. I'm not giving up on finding him. But I decided to take a step back. Focus on what I have at the moment. The car crash kinda reminded me of that actually."

"As you wish, hoss. Your decision. You are the one that's calling the shots."

"Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something… I know that we sort of talked about it, but I woke up from a weird dream that brought me back to the car crash. And I know you are still blaming yourself about it."

Jack tried to speak up, but Mac didn't give him enough time to get a word in before he continued.

"I had some time to think and I know the situation called for it, but it was stupid of me to drive through a red light. And as we agreed, the alternative was the guys that were chasing us to get the drop and things ending up being worse. All things considered Jack, we couldn't even be sitting here talking about it."

"I'm very well aware of that."

"Then why are you still acting like Atlas carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders?"

"You can talk."

"Jack. There's no one I trust more to get us out of a tight spot. And if our roles were reversed, I know that you would say the same to me if I was beating myself about what happened. But that's the thing. It happened. And now it's over and behind us. It's okay to need a breather now and again and let me drive."

"As long as you promise no more crazy stunt driving, I'll let you."

"Oh, we'll see about that. That crazy stunt driving got us out of what could have been even bigger trouble."

"True."

"I know that it was close. And I'm not trying to make you forget it ever happened. But blaming yourself for something you had no control over… Jack, I've been there. It eats you on the inside. And you are always the one that pulls me out of that dark pit my brain can go to."

"I know all of that, Mac. I'm just… I guess I'm blaming myself because it's always easier when I bring you home safe and uninjured."

"Not at the expense of you being the one with the injuries, Jack."

"You are important to me, Mac. I guess, I was thinking that if I could have prevented you from driving somehow that you… that you wouldn't be hurt."

"And that's the key. You are important, too. Plus it's not like you are psychic. You couldn't have predicted that we would be followed. Stop blaming yourself over it. I'm okay, here. Alive."

"Yes, you are."

Jack exhaled and it was like that weight sitting on his chest was lifted and he could finally breathe.

"Are we good?"

"Of course."

"Good. Because I'm done with you moping around my house like a ghost."

"Hey, now!"

…

Between dinner and more talk over one more beer for Jack and a soda for Mac, the day turned into night and before long Mac was yawning.

"God, I hate these meds. On top of making me paranoid, they are making me sleep so much, it's ridiculous."

"I'm not sure I've seen you sleep so much in all the time I know you."

"Right? It's annoying."

"Nah. You need all the sleep and rest to get back on your feet. And I know it's irritating, but you need that, Mac. Don't try to fight it."

"Mm, 'kay. I guess I should go and let sleep do its thing."

"Smartass. You need me to help you with something?"

"I think I'm good."

"Okay. Holler if you need anything."

"Will do. Night, Jack."

"Good night, Mac."

Once Mac was headed to his room, Jack cleaned up the plates and put the bottles away. Realizing that he wouldn't be okay until he checked on Mac, Jack headed for Mac's room.

He opened the door carefully, and closed it quietly behind him. He settled on the edge of the bed, not being able to hold himself this time from running his hand through blond strands. Jack got up and leaned over Mac, placing a kiss on Mac's forehead. He wished he could do it more often.

Before he had a chance to move further, Mac reached for him and soon enough, a pair of blue sleepy eyes looked at him.

"J'ck?"

"Yes, kiddo?"

"Stay?"

Jack nodded. He wasn't sure after the day they both had and their earlier talk, that he could sleep well on his own.

Thankfully, Mac's bed was big enough that Jack didn't need to move around Mac much to settle down. He covered himself with one of the blankets and held himself stiffly for a moment. He still couldn't believe that the kid trusted him so much to let him sleep so close.

Even though he promised Mac that they were okay, there were still bits of lingering guilt over what happened. Jack was kind of shocked when Mac moved and burrowed himself in Jack's side. He was snuffling sleepily and as he settled in Jack's embrace, Jack could feel him shivering a bit.

Jack wrapped his arms over Mac, as much as he could without jostling Mac's broken arm, and felt more than heard Mac sigh in contentment.

"Are you sure about this, hoss? I could move in my sleep and hurt you."

"I trust you, Jack. Now shut up and let me sleep. You are warm and I'm cold."

Jack could feel there was something else Mac didn't tell him. Sure enough, once Jack thought Mac was asleep, Mac spoke up.

"Earlier, when I woke up from my nap… It was… I had a nightmare. And you weren't in the room when I opened my eyes. It was weird. It's not like you have to be there 24/7, but it was weird. I was alone and hurting. I wanted you there."

"Oh, Mac…" Jack tightened his arms around Mac and he felt Mac burrowing in his side deeper.

"I know it's selfish, but. I couldn't help it."

"It's not selfish. At all. Whatever you need, Mac, and I mean it. Anything you need. You just have to ask."

"Okay."

Jack felt Mac settle and relax in his embrace and soon enough he could hear Mac's even breathing. It lulled Jack to drift off too. His last thoughts before he gave in to the sleep himself were of the neon sign that hung above Mac's bed and how it made Mac's hair look strawberry blond.

A/N: Few other things about this fic:

*The paramedics on site are based on the 911 characters Hen and Chim. But since I didn't want to make this a crossover or involve their characters, I decided to make them original characters with imagining them as the faces. Plus Maureen is the name of the character Aisha Hinds (Hen) played on Detroit 1-8-7. It just popped up in my brain randomly and I used it.
*The nurse in the hospital is named Maddie. Which is another 911 character, Maddie Buckley that works as a 911 dispatch, but was previously a nurse. So I had her in my mind while writing Maddie.
*And there's cousin Nick… which is none other than Nick Stokes. I'd like to think, most of you guessed it by now, but if not, there's your confirmation.
And now the cars:
*I couldn't bear to destroy the Wrangler or the GTO because I love those cars, so I chose a random car. That's not that random. Well, my father works with glass, and their work vehicle is KIA Sephia that served as an inspiration since I've been in that car multiple times so I know the interior and I like how it purrs when it's driven (although I always ride shotgun, since I don't have driver's license, yet). I assume Jack and Mac would side with me.
*As for the Zastava 101, my grandpa had one of those (in fact we still have it and it's in our garage) and I have heard a story of him pushing it to 160 km/h once in his young days while the car was still new to "test" it. Despite that, he was one of the best drivers I knew, and was never reckless. But that little event inspired my little thing with the Serbia reference. Zastava was a car company from Kragujevac, Serbia (mostly while Serbia was part of Yugoslavia, and for some years after the independence of Serbia and Montenegro, before it eventually shut down. Another car that was produced by Zastava was Yugo).
*The move when Mac was evading the cars that were chasing, was taken directly from 2x23 "MacGyver + MacGyver". I think y'all know which scene I'm referring to.

Thoughts?