Author Note: Hello everyone! Look what I did! I posted another chapter! Hooray for me! Anyway, I can't tell you how much the reviews and favorites and subscribes I've gotten mean to me. They have been the things that have kept me going! Thank you so much.

It also has occured to me that I have never put a disclaimer on this story, so...

Disclaimer: The boys are not mine. Mac belongs to Paramount Pictures and Jack belongs to Stargate (II) Productions, SCI FI Channel, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions (damn Jack, you got enough owners there?). However, should they one day be willing to sell said boys... I'm sure we can work something out *wink*. ;-D. The plot, OC's and everything not in relation to MacGyver or Stargate, though, those are mine.

Sooo, this chapter begins right where the other left off. Not too much in the way of action, and yes one of the boys knows the truth now. Yay for plot advancement. No particular warnings, though there are some dark thoughts at the end. I think you guys can handle it, ;-).

Enjoy!

Bansheila

Mac wasn't sure how long he sat there staring at the photo, but a sudden shudder of the plane snapped him out of it. Then he was a flurry of motion. He rifled through the stack of folders, searching for the one that held Jack's personal history.

Where is it, where is it….. Ah, there!

Mac grabbed the thin folder and read. With each line, his eyes widened and things started to make sense. Jacks birth date was the same as his. They were both born in the same state, in the same city. They were both adopted.

Their birth mothers' name was the same.

"Oh my God…." Mac breathed. The file fell from to the floor and he dropped his head in his hands. This was too much, but it all connected. Why had he felt so close to a man he'd never seen? Why had he never forgotten him after he thought Jack was dead? Why had he been so easy to talk too, when he'd never been like that with anyone, not even his own parents? After all those years of questions, he'd finally found his answers.

Jack O'Neill was his brother. His twin brother.

Now more than ever, a sense of need filled him. He had to save this man. There was no room for any mistakes. He couldn't let Jack die. Not again, not after what he'd just found out. There was no way MacGyver was going to let his brother die in some hellhole.

MacGyver was going to bring Jack home.

"Get up, American!" The harsh voice pierced the darkness, and was followed by a face full of ice cold water.

Not the best way to wake up. Jack thought. Shaking his already aching head, Jack opened his one good eye to glare balefully at the interrogator in front of him.

He was short; thin and wiry, with too small eyes spaced close together with a little pig like nose. His close cropped black hair was in perfect contrast with his dark tanned skin. He didn't look like he was completely Iraqi in decent, maybe some European mixed in there; or American, considering his hostility towards Jack.

Not that I was expecting them to invite me to dinner….

Not knowing his name, Jack had dubbed him Bob.

With water dripping in his eye, stinging from the sweat it collected on the trek down his face, Jack reached up and wiped at his face, before spitting on 'Bob's' boots. 'Bob' curled his top lip in disgust before introducing his boot to Jack's ribs. The vicious kick sent Jack sprawling onto his back, dragging a small grunt from his lips. His back was still shredded from the whipping he'd received yesterday. Still, somehow, with all that they had done to him in the past months, he still hadn't screamed.

Now; though, 'Bob' seemed to have made it his personal goal in life to make Jack do just that.

"Get to your feet, American. We have something special planned for you today." The evil smirk on his thin lips didn't sit well with Jack.

"What, have you guys finally responded to my request for a room with a view… and a toilet?" Jack snarked, "It's about time. If had taken much longer I wa—oof!" Another boot to the ribs emptied all the air form his lungs. "Okay…" He gasped. "Not in a good mood today, eh Bob?"

'Bob' just glared at him before waving his hand at the too lackeys behind him. They moved forward while 'Bob' spun on his heel and stalked from the room.

"Guess not." Jack got out before a meaty fist hit him in the face, knocking him unconscious.

The long plane ride was finally over. Mac gathered all the files he'd practically memorized by now, and slung his small pack over his shoulder and moved to the exit of the aircraft. The hiss of the door opening was a prelude to the dry heat slapping Mac in the face. An instant sweat broke out on his brow, and he quickly brought up his hand to shield his eyes against the brightness.

"Mr. MacGyver?" A voice called out. Mac glanced down to the end of the portable stairway that was in front of plane.

"Yeah, that's me." Mac quickly descended the stairs, eager to get started in the mission to find Jack. The young marine nodded.

"Follow me, sir." He quickly turned and jogged towards the building that was only a few yards away. MacGyver followed, determination lighting his features.

The sweat from the heat turned to near ice when Mac stepped into the building, so cold was the air conditioning. He shivered, but kept a steady pace behind his guide. They continued down the long corridor, finally coming to an unmarked door.

"The Commander is waiting for you in here, sir." The marine said, snapping a quick salute, before disappearing the way they had come.

Mac hefted his bag before rapping his knuckles on the door. A deep baritone voice called out from inside.

"Come!"

Mac had one last thought as he turned the knob on the door.

I'm comin' Jack. Don't give up, brother. I'm comin' for you.

He stepped into the office, and closed the door behind him with a soft snick.

Jack didn't want to wake up. Waking up meant he would probably have to move. He didn't want to move. Moving meant pain. He didn't want to feel any more pain. That was all he felt anymore.

Sometimes he really hated his smart mouth.

His mouth used to get him into all sorts of trouble when he was younger. Whether it was from his step-father or neighborhood kids and bullies, he always managed to spit out some sarcastic comment that wound up with him in the midst of a fight. With the kids and bullies he gave as good as he got, and was tougher for it. He learned what he needed to survive in a scrap, a skill that had come in handy many times in his life. With his step-father though….

Well, sometimes you picked your fights. You learned when it was worth fighting back and when it was pointless. When it was hopeless.

He was starting to get that feeling again.

He'd been fighting for weeks.

He was getting tired. Tired of the pain. Tired of the questions. Tired of the beatings, and whippings, and the electrocutions.

He wanted to sleep.

He wanted to sleep and never wake up.

But, he couldn't. He couldn't do that. Sara was waiting for him. He had to make it back to her. He had to. She was one of the only things that kept him going. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could see her face; smiling down at him, her golden hair around her head like a halo on an Angel.

His eyes still closed, he pictured her face.

What he wouldn't give to be back with her, in her arms. Safe. Warm. Free of pain.

Her face faded, and he drifted in the oncoming blackness. Just before the darkness took him, a feeling of determination and fierce protectiveness washed over him. A familiar voice whispered in his mind as he fell asleep again.

I'm comin' Jack. Don't give up, brother. I'm comin' for you.

Jack's brow creased in uncertainty right before sleep claimed him.

Mac?

I know its short. Sorry. I've just started Christmas break, though. So, I have some free time on my hands. I may be able to get the next part out before I start school again. Hopefully. Maybe. We'll see.

Anyway, please review, I love reading what you think.

Love

Bansheila