Sheltered

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: Here we are, finally at the end. Thank you all so much for all the kind reviews. It was so much fun writing a multi-chapter but I may stick to missing scenes for a while after the length of time I spent with this story. Again, thanks to those who took the time to comment and favorite this piece. I hope there are many more episodes to write about in the future.

RcJ

"So Jack basically landed you as a partner for some whiskey, Cuban cigars and chocolate?"

Bozer's question asked with complete incredulity had Mac refocusing on the present, letting go of the memory that had only been the beginning of a new path Mac never quite imagined taking. He'd been right, though. His life had never been boring after Jack Dalton entered the picture.

"He swears it was the best trade he ever made." Mac forced his gaze from his partner's still lack face to grin at Bozer. "Jack still sends the Major, now General Perseus Hammond a bottle of Jack Daniels, some Cubans and a box of the best Belgium chocolate every year on his birthday, Jack's birthday, not Hammond's."

Bozer laughed. "That sounds like Jack."

"Yeah." Mac swallowed hard. "It's just like Jack."

"But that doesn't explain the whole Guns and Roses shade throwing earlier. I want the scoop on this secret code."

"Haven't you heard enough stories for one day?" Mac looked at his wrist, forgetting he'd had his watch taken when he was prepped for surgery. It had to be well into the early morning hours. He looked over his shoulder surprised the hateful nurse hadn't come looking for him.

"It's not like you have other pressing matters to attend. We both know you're not leaving this room until Jack wakes up."

"That doesn't mean you have to stay." Mac jutted his chin to the door. "Go stretch your legs. You've been here a while. At least get some food, man. Check on Riley."

"If I go, do I get a rain check on the story?" Bozer stood, giving a wide yawn. "I'm still considering the screenplay on you guys."

"Sure," Mac said, though he'd find another way to distract Bozer when he returned. Some things Mac still wanted to keep to himself. He especially didn't want to watch them acted out in one of Bozer's short films, although Jack was convinced their lives would play like a Bruce Willis thriller.

"Can I bring you something back?" Bozer stopped by Mac's chair, looking hesitant to leave. "A box of paper clips maybe?"

Mac shook his head, but then reconsidered. If he gave Bozer a task, it would make it easier for his friend to justify leaving. "Maybe some Sprite to settle my stomach so we don't have a repeat of the Exorcist episode."

Bozer clapped Mac on the shoulder, flashing his trademark grin. "I can do that."

Mac felt the room fold in on itself as Bozer left. The respirator seemed to grow louder in his friend's wake and Mac increased the pressure on Jack's hand.

"Guns and Roses sucks, Jack," Mac whispered, hoping for any kind of reaction.

Jack had started the 'last word' game on that first mission Mac ran with The Unit. He said it was a way to let Mac know he was covering him, even when Mac couldn't see Jack. Mac at first thought it was mostly because Jack liked to hear the sound of his own voice and just wanted to wag his tongue over the channel they shared, but Jack was true to his word. Every so often, even when Mac was deep in concentration in defusing a device, Jack would throw out some kind of gauntlet, a challenge to see who could outdo the other. The winner was the one who got the last word on whatever subject before the mission was up. Topics could run the range from hottest Bond Girl, to best pizza topping compilation, to their latest, the best rock album. Over the years they'd covered just about everything.

As annoying as Mac had found the game at first, he'd come to depend on it, especially in some of their more precarious jobs. It gave Mac something to focus on other than the immediate danger around him, the responsibility of all those counting on him to clear a path. Jack had seemed to understand what Mac needed even when Mac didn't realize it himself. Jack made Mac's physical security a priority, but he'd also been determined to make Mac feel as safe as possible, in a place where death loomed around every corner. It was simple. Jack wanted to make sure Mac knew he was not alone.

"Now would be the time for some of that reassurance, big guy."

This hiss of the machines was the only response. Jack's stillness and silence became as insidious as quick sand that Mac kept slipping further in as the hours passed. Even when Bozer returned with Riley and Thornton in tow, Mac found it harder to maintain his grip. Sensing his precarious position his friends took turns staying with him, attempting to draw him out with food that Mac only picked at and conversation he barely followed. Even the bowl of paperclips Bozer borrowed from the front desk failed to interest Mac.

Bozer read the sports pages to Jack. Riley kept Die Hard on loop on her lap top. Thornton did her part by working her magic to make a way for Mac to stay at Jack's side against medical advice, although it didn't seem to help Jack's condition, nor did it do any favors for Mac's mental state. It was on the second day that their apprehension became smothering.

Mac could no longer take them watching him, watching Jack. It had only gotten worse after Jack's doctor had thought Jack strong enough to remove his patient from the respirator. Everyone, including Mac, expected some instantaneous awakening on Jack's part. Assured by the fact that if Jack was capable of breathing on his own, then he would soon regain consciousness. That was not the case.

Jack remained unresponsive, and that concerned not only his doctors, but Mac, and the rest of the team. Mac could sense their anxiety and worry, their impatience building on his, threatening to topple them all. He asked them to leave for a while, made them promise to go out together, to have dinner and not in shifts as they had been doing. Mac asked for some time alone, and possibly in not the nicest manner. After much resistance they agreed, sparing Mac from literally kicking them out.

Mac had been surprised that when left to his own devices he'd done what his body hadn't allowed for the past twenty four hours. He slept. Not in the recliner that one of the nurses who had taken pity on him had moved into the private ICU room Thornton had scored for Jack, but in the hardback chair Bozer had been using.

Mac had pulled it close to the bed, lowering the rails so he could rest his head on his folded arms for a moment while maintaining some kind of contact with Jack, his hand resting over his partner's. He hoped to close his eyes long enough to allow the pain medicine he'd reluctantly agreed to earlier to take the edge off the unrelenting ache in his leg, maybe relieving the headache he'd been plagued with as well.

Sleep had come swiftly and unexpected, but the touch that woke him over an hour later was even more of a jolt. A weight rested on his head and then someone ruffled his hair. When Mac jerked awake, opening his eyes to glare at whomever had interrupted the first real rest he'd had, Jack was watching him.

"Hey, Kiddo."

"Jack." Mac pushed himself up, blinking to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He was relieved to find they were still in the hospital room, and not Mac's old bedroom.

"No one ever told you that sleeping like that will put a crick in your neck?" Jack's voice was weak, hoarse, but absolute music to Mac's ears. He looked pale, and drawn, but had managed a half grin for Mac's benefit no doubt.

"You're awake."

Jack lifted a brow. "The look on your face and the fact you're holding my hand like some girl tells me that wasn't something the doctors were counting on?"

Mac grinned. "What do doctors know?"

"Not a lot about Jack Dalton if they thought I was checking out." Jack looked around. "Where…"

"We're home," Mac reassured. "Everyone made it back. Me, you, and Riley."

"The mission…" Jack's gaze locked on Mac once more. "You were hit."

"Not as bad as you." Mac longed to talk to his partner about his theories on said mission and why it had gone so disastrously but there would be time for that later. All that mattered was that Jack was awake.

"Your leg." Jack didn't lift his head, but he tried to turn it to see Mac's lower half.

"My leg is fine." Mac glanced to his leg, noting Jack still looked unsure. "Would the doctors have released me to sit in this miserable chair if I wasn't okay? A little rehab and I'll be running circles around you in no time."

"Considering I don't think I can lift my head, let along sit up by myself that's not much to brag about, brother." Jack looked at the I.V. in his hand, to the monitor beside his bed. "How bad was it?"

"Bad enough. You've been out for over two days." Mac tried to keep the emotion in his voice in check. He forced another grin but was certain it came out more like a grimace if the ache in his chest was any indication. "But nothing a lot of R&R won't fix."

"We have been talking about taking a vacation." Jack arched a brow. "I guess skiing is out for a while."

"I should get the doctor," Mac tried to carefully push himself up, reaching for the call button that would bring one of the nurses, but Jack tightened his grip on Mac's hand.

"Wait, Mac..."

"What is it?" Mac hesitated. "Are you in pain?"

"Just give me a minute, okay."

Mac sat back down, recognizing the momentary panic in Jack's gaze. It was disorienting to wake up in a strange place, to a situation you couldn't quite reconcile because although you'd been present the entire time, you'd also been completely unaware for the majority of whatever you'd been enduring. The drugs didn't help. It was hard for the average Joe but for someone with Jack's training, to be out of control, was terrifying. Mac's own experience with waking up alone a few days before was all too fresh in his mind.

"I'm here," Mac tried for comforting, repeating the words he usually heard from Jack. "You're safe. And I promise, pretty much in one piece."

"Good to hear." Jack's mouth twitched at Mac's bumbling attempt at reassurance. "You really need to brush up on your pep talk there, Bud."

"Forgive me, but I'm usually on the receiving end of this whole routine." Mac didn't like to be hurt, but over the last forty-eight hours he'd come to believe it was better than being the one left waiting.

"Don't remind me," Jack rumbled. He gripped Mac's hand once more and then let go.

Mac breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that Jack was finally back on safe ground. "It's harder than it looks, the whole bed side vigil thing."

"That why you look like you haven't slept or eaten in a week?"

Mac shrugged. "Worry takes a toll on a guy I guess."

"Tell me something I don't know." Jack bumped his hand against Mac's. "I once had a full head of brown hair before you came along."

When Mac didn't fire back with a quick response on how he wasn't to blame for Jack's receding hair-line, he felt Jack's fingers wrap around his wrist, give a gentle squeeze. "Stay with me."

"I thought you were going to die." Jack's familiar command had a lump lodging in the back of Mac's throat, threatening to choke him. He didn't understand the sudden chill that raced up his spine causing his hand to shake. His body seemed hell bent on betraying him. A wash of hot tears flooded his eyes. Mac blinked hard to hold them back, cursing the pain medicine and his weariness which had obviously worn away at his hard fought defenses. Words tumbled out of their own accord. "I didn't expect the sound of the ventilator…And then you were so freaking still and you wouldn't wake up, and I couldn't stop thinking about my mom and how it was the same and…"

"Hey," Jack's fingers tightened. Mac was almost afraid to look down for fear of finding a bloody smear, proof that he was in yet another dream and in reality Jack was not coming back. "Look at me."

"I'm sorry," Mac stammered, ashamed he was somehow falling apart like some rookie kid when Jack was the one who needed him to be strong. He quickly wiped a hand over his face, trying once more to get up and call for a nurse. "I really should let them know you're awake."

"Dude, cut it out." Jack's voice took on some of its usual strength. He tugged on Mac's arm, forcing him to sit back down. "Just take it easy. I can go a little bit longer without being poked and prodded. You're the one I'm worried about."

"I'm okay, Jack. I told you I was fine." Even Mac realized he sounded anything but.

"Where the hell are Bozer and Riley?" Jack looked around again, as if he wanted someone to blame for the obvious piss poor state of his partner.

"I might have asked them to leave." Mac shook his head, cursing the fact he couldn't quite seem to rein in his emotions, to force Pandora back in her box. He angrily swiped at another tear that had dared to dart down his cheek. "I might have insisted on it."

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"I wanted to be alone."

Jack sighed. "Kid, that's the last thing you needed."

"What I needed, Jack, was for you not to get shot!" The anger surprised Mac. He was yelling at his partner who'd until five minutes before had been unconscious. It was ridiculous and the last thing he wanted to do, yet he couldn't quite stop. "What I needed was for you not to be such a selfless jerk."

"I hear that," Jack replied, nonplussed. "It sucks, I get it."

"You don't get it, Jack," Mac said wearily. He pulled from the weak hold Jack still had on him and ran both hands through his hair. "I don't want your death on my conscience any more than you want mine. It might not kill me, but it will wreck me. And I'm not sure if that's not worse."

"What do you want me to say, brother?" Jack asked sincerely. "You want me to promise that I won't die?"

For a moment Mac considered it. Protecting himself with what they both knew was not possible. But Jack would do it. He would promise, he would swear an outright lie, to offer whatever shelter he could for Mac. Just like he'd always done whether it be with a sniper's rifle from hundreds of yards away or with a stupid game over a com channel.

Mac could feel the intensity of Jack's gaze, as if they were both back on the roof in Berlin and Jack was reaching out for all he was worth trying his best to convince Mac his grip was true, that he'd pull him up if he'd only let go and trust him.

Jack's intentions were honorable, and Mac couldn't sully the bond they had with dishonesty. He thought of Bozer and how despite his motives, Mac had taken something away from their friendship by not allowing the truth to breathe in the space between them. Bozer was smart enough to realize that even though the reality was not what he expected and maybe not what he wanted at all, the lie was much worse. Cheap. The shelter it offered was an illusion. Smoke and mirrors. The truth and trust was the only real refuge any of them had. And the truth was, Jack Dalton was not invincible. He was not, nor would he ever be, no matter what Bozer conjured in the lab, bulletproof.

"Just promise me you'll always do your best to come back. That you'll fight, even if I'm not in your line of sight. You'll know I'm counting on you to keep breathing, wherever I am."

"Dude, that's part of my priority mission. Who else is going to watch your back?" Jack looked around the empty room as if to make his point. "Or kick your ass when you need it."

Mac snorted. "Apparently General Hammond was right when he said you were the man for the job."

"Most hazardous assignment the bastard ever doled out." Jack grinned. "Birthday present my ass."

"You said it was the best trade you ever made?" Mac reminded, the oppressive fear he'd been living with the last forty-eight hours giving way beneath their banter, like a looming shadow vanquished by light.

"You know I'm a man who stands by the spirit of his words."

Mac rolled his eyes. "Oh, I know."

"Speaking of words, anything else you want to get off your chest." Jack gestured to the room once more. "I'm a captive audience, and I'm pretty sure my ears are the only things that are still in top form at the moment."

"There is one more thing before I get the doctor," Mac said.

Jack gave him a thoughtful nod. "Okay."

"Guns and Roses doesn't suck. Welcome to the Jungle alone earns you points." Mac grinned, determined if just this once to get the final say. He'd thought about it that day of the mission, ran through albums as he searched for the flash drive in the oilman's office, sure to outdo Jack when they made it back. He'd come up with one he thought both fitting and ironic. A sentiment Jack couldn't and wouldn't argue with. And it was actually a great album. "But I say Dire Straits-Brothers in Arms has them beat."

Jack shook his head. "Damn, Dude, how can I argue with that?"

"You can't," Mac said.

"Then I guess you win," Jack conceded.

And Mac knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he most definitely had.

RcJ-Until the next time.