A/N: This came to me earlier today, and I know the ending is kinda weak, but I had to just write it, even if it's just for my own enjoyment. First story for this fandom, but I love it and I love reading everyone else's stories. Review please!

Mac never actually screamed. Jack took a sick kind of pride in the kid for that. Yelled expletives that Jack had never heard from him, moan low-pitched sickening sounds, and let out pained cries, but never really screamed.

Jack did. Jack screamed, yelled, cried, threatened, begged, and beat his hands bloody on the thin but sturdy wall between them, even though they never laid a physical hand on him. All their attention had been focused on Mac, although he had to figure part of it was for his benefit as well. So far he had been treated to the stereo-quality sound of big meaty fists pounding on his young friend, and the crack of bones as someone got a good shot in, probably to his ribs. Mac made it through most of it with little more than pained grunts, and Jack hoped against reason that it was because they weren't hurting him that bad rather than him holding back for Jack's sake.

Because he was sure Mac knew he was there. When he had heard Mac yelling "No!" and the sizzle of a battery charger, he had screamed threats at them that would make a sailor blush. He heard them asking Mac if he was ready to answer some questions, then a sound that sounded uncomfortably like a bug zapper. He wondered where they were using them. The stomach was bad. The chest was dangerous. There were... more sensitive... places that would be worse. But the kid didn't seem to be in that kind of pain. Just the near-unbearable kind...

Jack had been CIA. He had trained for interrogation, had been on the receiving end of what the kid was going through. He could handle that, and would trade places with him in less than a second. But nothing prepared him for the sound of water splashing and Mac's cries of exertion as he fought, and the laughter of the ones holding him. Waterboarding. Or plain and simple drowning. The thought of Mac going through either of them made his gut clench. He had been through both, had topped his class at the Farm with almost five minutes without breaking. But the kid suffering like that... He beat his bloody fists against the wall again.

He heard the captor asking him if he was ready to talk. Then he heard what had to be Mac spitting at the man. "Go to Hell!" The water began splashing again.

Jack sat down hard with his head in his hands. It was such a good thing that they weren't asking him at this point. He knew he couldn't betray the Phoenix but he wasn't sure that he wouldn't break if they offered him a chance to stop the kid's pain. Somehow, these bastards had stumbled onto his weak spot and didn't even notice!

His hands and feet weren't even tied! He was left to roam free in this cell while Mac was tortured right next door and he was so damn helpless, he could just yell and listen to the kid try not to scream. This was the one thing he couldn't handle. Well, two: helplessness, and his friends suffering. He beat on the wall again, this time yelling crude sexual comments about their captors' mothers. He left bloody handprints as hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

Mac cried out again, and Jack heard the crack of a whip. They seemed to be purposely choosing the loudest ways to inflict pain, and there was nothing he could do. After three more snaps, three weakening yells of pain, he heard Mac take in a deep, painful breath. "I'm okay, Jack! I can take it!"

Tears streamed even faster. The kid was trying to keep quiet for his sake. And Jack, having been there, knew just how excruciating it really was. "Stop it! Stop hurting him!" Jack screamed, pounding on the wall with all his might. The concrete dug into the raw flesh that had already been shredded. "Leave him alone! I'll tell you what you want!"

The cry that came back was more pained than ever before. "No! Jack, I'm okay! Don't tell these bastards anything!"

Then it came, the sound he had been dreading. Not a yell, not a cry, an actual scream. Jack had no idea what they had done to cause it, but he slammed into the wall, shoulder first, and tried to bust through the wall. The weren't going to make him scream again.

It was at that moment the door burst in. Jack fought his way through the cavalry. "My partner is next door! Help him!"

They busted through the door, and before a shot could be fired, Jack was on his friend, his little brother's, captor. One smooth move snapped the man's neck as the others were rounded up by the soldiers. Jack found a knife from a table, and cut the kid's wrists down from the ceiling. He all but collapsed into Jack's arm.

The kid was shirtless, bleeding from a dozen cuts, scrapes, and whip lashes. Jack eased him to the ground, laying him on his side, as it seemed to be the only non-injured part of him. "Stay with me, kid, ok?"

Mac managed a weak smile. "I made it this far, can't I pass out now?"

Jack grinned at his smile, "Nope, kiddo, you gotta stay with me. I had to listen to what they did to you, don't you dare leave me now, ok?' His voice broke a little at that, and Mac reached out his good hand. "I didn't tell them anything."

"I know you didn't, kid. You wouldn't."

His eyes met Jack's. "Would you really have?"

Jack looked away. "I protect you, kid. That's my job. You damn right I would have."