"Time's up, Mac," Riley announced. "If you haven't given him that shot yet, it might be too late."

"Only one way to find out," MacGyver countered, as he injected Ralph before placing his own home-made gas mask over the other man's face. Just in time for one of the DC77 goons to slug him in the ribs then grab him in a choke hold.

Jack was being dealing with his own goons, so Mac took care of the guy on his own, but he was inhaling Freon and choking on the fumes as he hauled Ralph's heavier bulk off the table. It felt like he had ten miles to go as he dragged Ralph, who was draped over his back, towards the exit.

Stumbling through the door, MacGyver dragged Ralph a few steps more, before falling to his knees and trying not to drop his burden too hard onto the pavement. For a long moment it seemed like Ralph wasn't going to wake up, so MacGyver was relieved when he started snoring before Jack shouted his name to wake him up.

Having retrieved what they came for, the team headed for the private airstrip where Thornton had a private plane waiting for them with a doctor on board to care for Ralph's gunshot wound.

Glad to be airborne and heading home, Mac sat in the back, sipping on bottled water and trying not to cough. Ever since he had inhaled the Freon in the warehouse, his chest had been feeling tight and he found it difficult to keep from choking. He was glad that Jack was distracted with keeping an eye on Ralph, who was being worked on by the doctor Thornton had sent. MacGyver was definitely relieved to have that responsibility off his shoulders. Feeling another coughing fit coming on, he took another sip of water. That goon back in the warehouse had a fist like a sledgehammer, so every time Mac coughed it was hell on his ribs.

Jack was preoccupied with the doctor and Ralph. Although Ralph was now sleeping, thanks to a shot of painkiller and sedative. The doctor was stitching up the incision MacGyver had made during his make-shift surgery that had saved Ralph's life.

"Who performed the surgery?" The doctor asked, as he knotted the last stitch then began applying ointment and a bandage to cover the wound.

"Why do you ask?" Jack countered, because he wasn't about to throw MacGyver under the bus.

The doctor shrugged. "I'm just curious. My understanding is that the surgery was performed in the back of a car without surgical instruments."

Jack frowned, suspicious of where the doctor was going with this. "It was," he allowed.

"Then I'm very impressed." The doctor finished with the bandage, so he checked the IV line then turned to face Jack. "Whoever did that surgery, especially under those conditions, is to be commended. That was battlefield surgery at it's finest."

"Well, since you put it that way..." -and Jack could not have agreed more - he turned and pointed to the back of the plane where MacGyver was on his phone, probably talking to Thornton. "He did the surgery."

The doctor was shocked. "That kid is a doctor?"

Jack grimaced. "Uh...no. He's not a doctor. To be honest, it's rather difficult to describe MacGyver and what he does." To change the subject Jack pointed at Ralph. "So I take it he's going to be okay?" As much as the guy drove Jack up a wall, they still needed him to fully take down DC77.

"He'll be fine." Stepping around Jack, the doctor moved to the bathroom to wash his hands.

"How's Ralph doing?" Riley asked, as Jack dropped into the chair next to her. She had been going through Ralph's lap top and they had everything they needed, along with Ralph's testimony, to shut DC77 down for good.

There was a packet of nuts on the table between them and Jack scooped them up, tearing them open and chomping on a mouthful before replying. "According to the Doc, Ralphie is going to be just fine. Can't say the same for MacGyver though."

Riley stopped typing and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He's hurting." Jack's eyes were locked on his friend. "See how he's shifting in his seat, like he can't get comfortable? I'm guessing it's his ribs." Jack shook his head, disappointed. "He should have told me. He knows he's supposed to tell me when he's injured."

"Do you blame him?" Riley couldn't hide her amusement, even though now that she was looking for the signs, she could see what Jack meant about Mac moving like he was sore.

Jack scowled. "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Riley resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You know exactly what I mean, Jack. You're a closet Mother Hen."

"No, I'm not!" Jack protested, even though he knew he was. He might have continued arguing, just for the fun of it, but MacGyver started coughing. A harsh, choking sound, that made Jack wince in sympathy. He pushed out of his seat and ran over to the kid, awkwardly patting him on the back. "You okay there, bud?"

MacGyver wished he could stop coughing long enough to tell Jack to stop asking stupid questions, but he couldn't suck in enough air to do so. Another round of coughing left him feeling dizzy, and his ribcage ached and he had lost his water bottle somewhere so he couldn't take a sip. As he continued coughing, his dizziness increased and the next thing MacGyver knew, darkness swirled around him and swallowed him whole.

Jack saw Mac start to tip out of his seat and he caught him up and laid him back, his body gone limp and his coughing silenced. But not in a good way. "Hey, Doc! I need you over here! Now!" Panic washed over Jack as he patted Mac on the cheek, trying to wake him.

"What happened?" It was Riley who appeared beside him.

"I don't know, he just passed out." Jack was pushing from panicked into frantic. "Where's the damn doctor?"

The man appeared as if out of thin air, pushing Jack aside to feel for a pulse on MacGyver's neck. "What happened?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't know. He was coughing and then he was passing out. I think he got hurt on the mission, but that doesn't explain the coughing."

"He wasn't wearing his mask when he came out of the warehouse," Riley interjected. "Ralph was wearing it, so Mac probably inhaled some of the Freon gas. That's probably why he's coughing."

"That would explain it," the doctor confirmed, looking surprisingly unruffled by the explanation. Then again, Thornton had sent him so he was probably used to working with agents.

Jack didn't like how pale and still Mac looked. "He's going to be okay though, right?"

Before the doctor could respond, MacGyver started coughing again. More muffled this time, instead of gut-wrenching. He shifted in his seat, pushing up and leaning forward, one arm curling around his ribs. "Water..." Mac whispered..

"Here." Jack found the bottle and uncapped it before pushing it into MacGyver's hand. A hand that was shaking hard enough that Jack had to steady it so the kid could take a drink.

"Thanks," MacGyver said, after taking a few swallows that seemed to calm the coughing fit for the moment.

The doctor cupped MacGyver's face, looking into his eyes as he asked, "Do your lungs burn when you cough?"

MacGyver pulled back then shook his head. "They did at first but it's better now. It's more just a tickle in my throat I can't get rid of. I'm fine." He wanted to make that very clear, because he could feel Jack glaring at him.

"What about your ribs?" The doctor reached for MacGyver's shirt.

"They're good." Mac winced as he leaned back into his seat to avoid the doctor's grabby hands.

Jack wasn't about to let that fly. "You're hurting, bro. Let the Doc here take a look." He was smiling but his tone brooked no argument.

Knowing what the ultimate outcome was going to be, Mac gave in because he knew that was the only option Jack was going to give him. He closed his eyes and let the doctor lift his shirt and palpate his ribs, grinding his teeth to hold back a gasp as he held his body stiffly and refused to even wince. The pain wasn't sharp, it was more like a bad bruising, but MacGyver was glad when the doctor stopped touching him.

"Nothing's broken," the doctor announced.

"I could have told you that," Mac muttered, smoothing his shirt down. To take attention off himself he asked, "How is Ralph doing?"

Jack knew what Mac was doing, but decided to indulge him for the moment. "He's going to live. Doc here is very impressed with your surgery skills, by the way."

The doctor confirmed this by saying, "I am impressed. You saved his life."

"All in a days work," Mac drawled, scrubbing a hand over his face. Now that he had finally stopped coughing for more than a minute, and his ribs didn't ache so much, he realized he was tired and just wanted to curl up in the corner and sleep.

"You need to rest," said the doctor, as if reading Mac's mind.

Jack was in total agreement, nudging the doctor out of the way so that he could pull MacGyver to his feet and over to the other corner where there was a couch big enough to the kid to stretch out on. It was telling to Jack that Mac didn't even resist, he just let himself be pushed down onto the couch and even allowed Jack to pull a blanket over him. "You need anything, you just ask. I'll be sitting right there." He pointed to the seat across from the couch.

Mac nodded as he closed his eyes. Lying down felt like heaven. "You don't need to stay though," he whispered. "I'm good."

"You and I have very different definitions of good, kid," Jack countered, patting Mac on the shoulder. "But before you go to sleep, I want to listen to me." He waited until Mac opened his eyes and looked at him. "When you're hurt, you tell me." Jack shook a finger at him. "We've had this conversation several times and, apparently, it hasn't stuck yet. So I'm telling you again."

"Got it." Mac knew it was easier just to give in. He and Jack really did have different ideas about what *good*, *fine*, and *okay* were.

Jack ruffled MacGyver's hair, grinning when the kid swatted his hand away. "Sweet dreams. I'll wake you before touch down." He wasn't surprised when Mac didn't respond, since it appeared the kid was already out, slipping into slumber between one heartbeat and the next. So Jack settled into his seat and pulled out his phone to play a game.

Riley sat down next to him. "You do this a lot, don't you?"

"Do what?" Jack didn't look up from his phone.

"Keep watch over Mac." Riley opened her laptop and started typing.

Jack shrugged. "It's what I do."

Riley snorted. "Watch dog."

"From you I consider that a compliment," Jack drawled.

"Actually, you kinda smell like a dog. Wet dog." Riley wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Jack resisted the urge to sniff his pits. It wasn't like they'd had time to shower. "That's my manly work stench," he countered.

Riley choked down a giggle as Mac shifted on the couch. She didn't want to wake him. Setting her laptop aside, she decided to join him, curling up in her seat and closing her eyes.

Jack was content to watch over his team as they made their way back home.

THE END