Jack stretched and took a sip of beer. He closed his eyes taking in the musk of the trees around him and the soft rippling pond that gently nudged the doc. Jack wiped sweat from his brow and studied his work. They had ended up five feet shy of the original deck, but he had made sure what they had was stable enough to survive any other hurricane that came their way.

Jack smiled and enjoyed the sun playing across his bare skin as he padded toward the cabin. Wearing only shorts the breeze off the pond felt crisp and refreshing. He winced looking down. His forearm where the Ghost had sliced his still stung and itch. The 19 stitches had come out last week. His side ironically had only needed three stitches and hurt a hell of a lot less. Doc Carl said it was because it had mostly gone into the one roll of fat Jack never seemed to be able to work off since he passed 40. He had been fortunate.

Jack felt the full weight of the sentiment as he approached MacGyver curled up under a blanket sleeping on a comforter spread under the green shade of an old Elm. Mac had no business being alive. Jack's spit dried at the thought. He remembered coming to in the bustling ER with Laura sewing his arm back together.

Jack closed his eyes and felt his heart falter out of beat. Every medical staff Phoenix had access to had scurried around the unconscious man. Jack rubbed his eye as dust caused tears to build up. He took a sip of beer. Be honest, Jack told himself, Mac had not looked good, and Jack had known it was the end of the line for his brother. Jack stared out at the calm mirror of the pond. He'd gone to surgery three times to fix his neck. Sally had assured Jack that if he hadn't done what he had Mac would have bled out, but his meatball first aid and the strangulation had caused a lot of damage. On top of that Mac had had to have his back debrided again and sewn back up and his heart still flipped in and out of rhythm. He should have died.

If love and fear were prayers, Jack had prayed with everything he had in him. He had stayed at Mac's bedside for a long three weeks. He couldn't count how many times medics had run in fighting to bring down his temp or give fluids and medicine for his heart or any number of other emergencies. Mac somehow had weathered it all. The worry about brain damage from the loss of blood to his brain had been another heart-wrenching scare and the longer Mac stayed unconscious, the longer Jack and everyone at Phoenix felt hope die.

Jack breathed out and took another sip of beer. He looked over at the sleeping kid and grinned. Once again Mac did the impossible. Jack had always teased the kid about being cleanly shaven. Even though he knew it wasn't right, he'd, always told Mac he would only grow peach fuzz because he was so young and pretty. Jack had seen the tawny layer of fur before when they were out in the field a long time. Now seeing it against his whiter than white skin made Mac look like a hundred-year-old plague victim. Jack was elated when Mac opened his eyes, but Mac hadn't been entirely there. The sparkle of mischief generally in his baby blues was dulled with pain and fatigue and not just the physical.

Jack sighed and walked to Mac. Mac gained ground every day physically, but he was emotionally somber, flat, and sad. In Phoenix medical that seemed to get worse and Mac didn't sleep or eat much. Jack finally put his foot down and brought Mac out to his cabin. Jack glanced at his watch and smiled. Everyone had come out. Most of the TAC teams had come out to sweep the beach of debris and relayed out to bring in the half-sunk rowboat. Sally came out once every other day and often brought Sam who distracted Mac while her mom did medical stuff to the kid. Mac smiled more when she was around. Jack grinned. It was apparent Sam loved Mac as much as her mother did. She harassed Mac about being a spy-what was it like, how did you get to be one and most importantly, did he think a ten-year-old could join his team in Phoenix. Mac had distracted her by making paper dolls that Sam colored in as Antebellum or Elizabethan ball gowns. Everyone agreed that Baby Evil Elf was quite the firecracker.

Matty, Bozer, and Riley had come out every weekend bringing food, music and good company. Jack was happy to see Mac smile and ate more with Bozer's simple home cooking. Bozer made all of his favorites. Mac sat bundled on the sofa relaxing with the company of his loved ones around him as they watched movies or played cards-practice or no, Sam still took Jack's last three paychecks. Jack finished his beer and sat down in the shade beside Mac.

While all of that was great, Mac still slept 20 out of 24 hours. Jack tried to reassure himself that this was what Mac's body needed to heal, but it was unnatural. Mac was a body in motion hardly ever in one place or on one thought long enough to be still. Now he was a shell of himself. Jack gently brushed Mac's hair away from his face. His color was better now he was getting fresh air. Mac moaned and slowly cracked his eyes. He looked up at Jack and smiled a small smile.

"Hey." The kid mumbled. Jack smiled back. He didn't care how long it took; he'd make sure Mac would return to normal. Mac looked around confused for a second. He blinked. "What time is it? When are the others going to get here?"

"They'll probably be out here in an hour or two. Are you sure you're up for this?" Mac rubbed his face and fought a long yawn.

"It'll be nice having everyone over." Mac narrowed his eyes and studied Jack. Jack looked away hoping his dark thoughts didn't show. "Are you ok?"

"Me? Of course, this is the longest paid vacation I've had in centuries." Jack laughed. Mac leaned back huffing out a deep breath his eyes sad.

"Some vacation." He grumbled. Jack scowled. He knew Mac felt guilty about needing everybody's help. Jack reached over and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Mac looked at him startled.

"It's the best vacation ever," Jack said his eyes tearing up with sincerity. Mac swallowed and nodded. Jack turned away taking a shaky breath. It had been too close, too damn close. Jack chuckled. "You wanna know what Matty did with the Ghost?" Mac turned with a raised eyebrow.

"She spread his ashes over at Scholl with all the other garbage." Mac laughed then winced holding his hand over the side of his neck. Jack frowned with worry and leaned forward. Mac put out a hand stopping him.

"It's ok, Jack, it's just gonna hurt for awhile." Jack looked at him oddly. "What?"

"You know you get to know what it feels like to be bitten by a vampire...maybe you'll start to sparkle? I hear that's a thing now." Mac's mouth quirked at the edges.

"A.) You've been hanging out with Riley too long, sparkling vampires are just...dumb, B) I wasn't bitten and C) if I ever did start to sparkle I hope you have the decency to spike me dead." Jack shook his head and laughed while inside his heart jumped with fear about the idea of death and Mac anywhere near the same sentence.

"Do you want to go inside and get some rest before everyone else gets here?" Mac scowled and closed his eyes.

"No, but I guess I should." His voice was thick with tired acceptance. Jack sighed.

"It'll get better, buddy." Mac squinted at him.

"I hope so, big guy. I really do." Jack stood up and helped Mac pull off the blanket. Even though it was comfortably cool out, Mac wore a hoodie over a long-sleeved T-shirt and sweats. He reached up an arm and put his arm around Jack's shoulders. Jack hauled him up to his wobbly feet. Mac hung his head. He'd paled a color. Jack waited patiently. After a couple of minutes, Mac finally looked up and nodded. He slowly staggered toward the cabin Jack taking most of his weight.

Mac was out of breath and panting as Jack helped him to bed. Jack took off his shoes and socks. Mac was already half asleep. Jack covered him up feeling an explosion of fondness for his brother.

"Jack?" Mac mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything, you know that."

"Can you find out his name?" Jack blinked at Mac in confusion about to ask when he remembered what Mac had said the night before the Ghost's attack. I don't even know his name.

"Sure, I'll ask Riley when she gets here."

"Thanks…'ove yu…" Mac's voice vanished into a thick slur. Jack felt as if his heart would explode. He bent down and ran a hand through the kid's hair.

"I love you too, brother." He said softly into Mac's ear.

Two hours later, Sally and Sam were the first ones to arrive. Jack watched Sally's classic love bug bounce into the driveway as she slowly drove over ruts and holes. She looked flustered when she got out, her face almost matching the car's candy apple red. Sam exploded out of the car and ran up to Jack throwing herself into an all-encompassing hug. For some reason, Sam always smelled of bubble gum, grape juice and WD 40.

"Is Mac up?" The girl's red curls were pulled back into long pigtails, and she wore jeans and a T-shirt covered in motor oil and grease. Jack shook his head. It was an old T-shirt of Mac's he'd worn as a work shirt. No one quite knew why the girl appropriated it, but she wore it almost everywhere.

"He's napping on the couch." Sam's deep mahogany eyes went severe.

"Is he doing ok?" Jack smiled.

"He sure is, he's been waiting to see you all day." Sam let out a squeal that sent shockwaves of pain through Jack's ears then bounced into the cabin. Jack stood up shaking his head. He smiled at Sally. She hugged him then held him at arm's length. She frowned.

"How are you? Have you been getting any sleep?" Jack ran a hand through his stubby hair. He shrugged and turned away gazing at the smooth surface of the water.

"Some, mostly when Mac's out. I've been trying to get things up to specs around here." Sally smiled and twined his arm with hers.

"It's ok to work the demons away Jack, but don't let them work you away," Sally said as they entered the cabin. Jack grinned.

"Did you make that up? You should copyright that." Sally laughed.

"You never know, Jack." They found Sam sitting on the coffee table excitedly telling Mac about her idea to sew a life-size ball gown with secret pockets for guns and knives. Mac smiled and offered some suggestions. Sam had out a drawing pad and began to write down some ideas. Mac waved at Sally his expression changing to one of leeriness. Sally laughed.

"Oh, Jack I forgot! Laura made peach cobbler for you; it's in the car." Jack felt his face flush.

"You mean for all of us, right?" Sally shot him a wicked grin.

"Oh no, Jack. You're her sweet babu."

"Her what?" Mac exploded with a loud roar holding his side in pain but unable to keep in his amusement. Jack glared at him.

"Her sweet babu, her words. You know I think she'd like you to be her man-pup."

"HER WHAT?"

"Man-pup, you know what cougars like to play with?" Jack shook his head speechless, turned and got the cobbler out of the car. Sally laughed taking off her jacket and crossing to sit beside her sister. Mac studied the drawing. Sally eyed him; there was plotting going on behind those blue eyes. He looked at Sam.

"You know this is really good. Bozer has an aunt who loves to sew and make stuff. Maybe you could ask Boze to have her make it into a real dress?" Sally arched an eyebrow at him. Mac gulped and hastily added. "If it's ok with Sally, of course." Sam whirled and glared at Sally expectantly. Sally sighed and nodded.

"If it's ok with Bozer." Sam let out another ear-piercing scream bounced up and ran out the door. Looking over Mac could see Riley and Bozer bouncing up to the drive in Bozer's gray Buick. Mac leaned back resting a hand on his forehead. He realized Sally was scrutinizing his every move. He dropped his hand and looked at her exhaustion in his face.

"What?" He asked tiredly.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Mac rolled his eyes then closed them.

"I wouldn't have invited everyone if I wasn't. Besides it's not like I'll be awake the whole time." Sally frowned at the frustration in Mac's voice. Before she could say anything Jack holding a lasagna pan of cobbler led Bozer, Riley, and Sam into the kitchen. Bozer grinned at Mac who tiredly waved then sat at the table beside Sam taking her pencil and going over her drawing making suggestions. Mac smiled. He hadn't thought about it, but the request would probably never reach his aunt, Bozer would probably make Sam's fancy spy dress. Mac sighed feeling his eyes droop as he again sunk into sleep.

A few hours later Jack woke Mac up.

"They're getting ready to fire up that monstrosity you made." Mac rubbed his eyes which widened as he looked at the clock.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" He said groggily.

"Why do you think? Duh. Come on, bro. Matty brought a huge hammock for you." Mac squinted up at Jack.

"Matty...hammock? Why?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"Maybe she wants you to bring it to work; I don't know." Mac frowned at him but was too tired to tease back. Jack reached down and hauled Mac up. Easing along at Mac's slow pace, Jack half carried him outside. Mac grinned at everyone in front of him. He'd insisted on having a barbeque to thank everyone who had helped him while he was down. The TAC guys had brought a volleyball and net and were in short playing against and crushing Riley, Bozer, and the rest of the medical staff. Matty and Sally sat in swimsuits drinking what looked to be daquiries or margaritas on the blanket under the Elm. Everyone paused to turn to Mac and give him a classic slow clap. Mac groaned and covered his eyes with his hands.

"I'll never hear the end of this." He grumbled. Jack laughed.

"Absolutely not." The hammock had been set up between two white birches behind the Elm. It took Jack and two other TAC guys to maneuver Mac into it. Sally was there in an instant fussing over Mac making sure he had a pillow and was warm enough. Mac shot Jack a pleading look. Jack laughed.

"Sorry, bud. I'm on burning the food detail." Jack turned and joined Bozer who had pulled out a square metal contraption the size of Sally's car. Mac laid back taking deep relaxing breaths. Everyone offered words of support then left him slightly swaying in the breeze. Mac smiled his spirit feeding on the gentle rocking, the sounds of happiness around him and the smell of Bozer's marinaded steak on the grill. He drifted into sleep again for the next half hour. He was woken up by Sam staring at him intently holding a plate stacked with food.

"Sally and Jack said if you don't eat all of this they are going to put you in a box and feed you to the fishes at the bottom of the pond." Mac's mouth quirked into a wry smile.

"No, they didn't." Sam sighed upset to be caught out.

"Ok, they didn't, but they sure would have if they'd thought about it." Mac took the plate from Sam with a promise he'll do his best. Sam flounced away to sit with Riley and Bozer. Mac grimaced. The meat had been diced into small chunks. He suspected Sally was behind that. He picked at the bites and nibbled on a few wincing at the pain in his throat. He'd only eaten about a quarter of the plate when he slumped back exhausted. Mac's eyes pricked with tears of frustration.

"Hey." Jack walked up to Mac and handed him a beer. Mac arched an eyebrow his glance shifted to Sally. "She said one would be ok since you've been a good boy and keep resting." Mac scowled but took the beer gratefully. He chugged down a gulp then leaned back feeling it slide down his sore throat and spread in his belly smooth and fresh. He sighed and leaned it beside him in the hammock.

Jack studied Mac closely noting the haunted shadows creep into his eyes again.

"Are you ok?" Jack asked. Mac cleared his throat and looked away taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, just really really worn out." Mac's voice matched his words. Jack frowned. Mac sounded tired to the point of pain.

"Do you want to go inside and rest?" Mac looked at Jack and sighed.

"I don't...yeah, I probably should." The younger man whispered. Jack could tell there was something under the words, something that wasn't healing. Mac awkwardly flipped off the hammock leaning against Jack a long minute before getting his rubbery feet under him. He nodded, and they wobbled to the cabin. Mac grinned and thanked everyone but his shoulders slumped, and he could barely stand as Jack hauled him to his room.

Mac sat on the side of the bed leaning forward eyes closed breathing deeply his head bent down. Jack gathered a clean pair of sweats and T-shirt. Jack crouched in front of Mac; he couldn't see the kid's face behind his unruly fringe of blond hair.

"Mac?" Jack brushed the bangs out of the kid's face surprised to see tears dripping down his face. "Mac, what's wrong?" Mac rubbed his face with the heel of his right hand. He shook his head. "Come on, talk to me. What's going on?" Mac managed to raise his head, and his gaze met Jack's.

"I'm just so damn tired." He said. Jack frowned knowing Mac wasn't talking about his physical wounds. Jack sat beside him and put an arm around Mac's slim shoulders.

"I hear ya, brother. It's been a bitch...but he's gone now, you're safe, and it's over." Mac managed a wan smile. He stared at the wall in front of him.

"Is it? Why don't I feel better?"

"What do you mean?" Mac sighed and reached up to unzip his hoodie.

"It doesn't matter." Jack put his hand over Mac's stopping him and waited until Mac met his gaze.

"It matters. Did you expect to heal up right away? Is that what this is, frustration?" Mac leaned forward grimacing at the pain in his lower back. Jack automatically started rubbing Mac's upper back.

"No...well maybe a little, it would be nice if I could just wake up and be better, but I know that's not how it works."

"So?"

"I don't know. I thought there would be some sense of...of being done. Of it being over, finished."

"Closure?"

"I don't know maybe." Mac's voice was barely a whisper. Jack studied his partner who leaned his head into both of his hands. After a long minute, Mac shook his head and gave Jack a small smile and yawned. Jack chuckled and nodded helping Mac out of his hoodie and into clean clothes. Mac breathed out in relief as he stretched out. Jack pulled the comforter up. Mac's eyes were slowly drifting shut.

"Hey, hey not yet kiddo." Mac looked up and huffed as Jack leaned over him with yet another handful of pills. Mac choked them down one by one. Mac slumped back breathing hard when he finished the last one. He didn't fight sleep letting it wash over him. Jack watched him, Jack's breathing automatically fell into sync with Mac's rhythm. An idea occurred to Jack, and he smiled having an idea about how to help his friend.

It took another two weeks to set up. Mac's stamina was growing. He could walk short distances on his own now and stay awake longer. He was still too listless for Jack's liking, but as he often reminded Mac healing takes time. Mac sat on the end of the doc kicking his feet in the water watching as the sky above shivered in the water below. Perhaps feeling guilty for the savage storm, mother nature had given them another warm day. Mac sat with only shorts on enjoying the breeze against his skin. He felt like a reinflated tire. Mac stretched his back. He'd finally gotten rid of the thick circle of bandages. Tomorrow the stitches would come out of his back. He'd already had the ones on his side and neck removed.

Jack's reflection popped over Mac's head. Mac jumped and turned looking up at his partner.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He said with a smirk. Jack shrugged.

"I have something for you."

"Oh?" Jack handed Mac a manilla folder. On the tab was the name 'Derrick Jacob Nellis, LTJG, US Navy.' Mac felt his heart flutter in his chest, and his hand shook. Jack sat beside Mac. "Is this…?"

"Yep, Riley pulled that." Mac swallowed and opened the file. The picture of the young African-American with his full future ahead of him gazed up at his hope and fire in his eyes. Mac slapped the file shut sucking in an unsteady breath. Derrick was his age, but Mac felt centuries older. He rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to reign in the storm of emotions. Jack didn't say anything only put a comforting arm around Mac's shoulders. "You don't have to read it you know." Mac glared at the lake it's calm blue feeling like an exposed lie.

"Yes, I do," Mac said to himself more than the world around him. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the file. Derrick hadn't lied, there was no next of kin listed. His wife and three boys had died in a car crash while deployed to Guam. His parents went a year later a week apart from each other. Mac felt as if his heart was being cut out. How much had this guy gone through and yet he still served and made the ultimate sacrifice. Mac's grip on the folder went limp. Jack managed to save it from falling into the water.

Mac gazed off into space, his brain again playing the loop of the man's death. Guilt bored into Mac's chest causing his lungs to hitch as soft sobs slowly wrenched free from him. Jack pulled Mac close, and that was Mac's undoing. He clung to the older man and buried his head into Jack's shoulder giving in to gut-wrenching sobs.

Mac almost collapsed against Jack his crying sucking down whatever remnants of energy Mac had left. Mac was dazed. Jack hauled him to the cabin and got him into bed. Mac was out in seconds. Jack frowned considering the wisdom of his plan. He decided to go with his gut. It would be hard for the kid, but Mac needed some way of putting this in the rearview mirror.

Mac was quiet on the way into Phoenix the next morning. Jack's red-faced discomfort under the determined flirting of Laura kept Mac distracted while the Evil Elf gnawed pieces of skin off with each suture she removed. Mac was still teasing Jack about being a Man-cub out to the car. Jack took it good-natured, mostly. He was happy to see the cloud break and a ray of sunlight shine through. It didn't last. Mac fell into a moody silence staring out the passenger's window.

Mac didn't notice they weren't going home until the car bounced into a cemetery. Mac felt his heart speed up and his stomach fall. He glared at Jack.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, his anger showing he had a pretty damn good idea that his partner was up to something and it probably wouldn't end well. Jack sighed and pulled off his shades.

"You need some way of laying to rest." Mac shook his head and rubbed his forehead.

"I'm fine, just tired." Mac wished his voice didn't sound so flat. It wasn't convincing even to himself. Jack hummed. They rode through the narrow curving lanes of the sprawling cemetery. Jack hated graveyards. He'd seen too many good people in the ground for him ever to get accustomed to the cement or shiny stones where lives reduced to dates, names and maybe a sentence or two. Even the most elaborate and polished would one day stand broken and forgotten eventually.

Jack pulled to the side of the grassy road. The two men sat in silence staring out at the thick green grass spread out like a lawn dotted with uniform white crosses flanked on both sides by American flags. Mac sighed.

"Which one?"

"Third from the left sixth row." Mac nodded. Without looking at Jack, Mac said,

"Wait here?"

"Ok, bro, whatever you need." Mac got out of the car slowly. He walked to the grave slowly with a wobbly gait. Jack watched him, his heart breaking for his friend. After Mac reached the cemetery, he fell to his knees. Jack almost jumped out but held back. He glanced at his watch. Everyone should start arriving over the next ten minutes.

Mac reached out and felt the rough white stone. In military precision, Derrick's grave was utterly in line with the endless rows of white crosses. All served their country; many paid the ultimate price. Here, buried in a well-kept lawn, they are honored by perfectly spaced, perfectly kept crosses for the rest of time. The military made uniformity an honor once again. Mac blinked away tears that blurred his vision. He never bought into the whole heaven and hell thing, he wasn't sure he even believed in the hereafter or a soul, but here in the unnatural quiet presence of death, he had to admit there was a kind of peace. Mac gently touched the drying dirt covering the grave noting the tiny bristles of green growing. Soon Derrick Jacob Nellis LTJG of the US Navy would be covered and indiscernible from his brethren. The thought both comforted and saddened MacGyver.

Mac's head bolted up as he heard the sound of soft voices and shuffling feet. Jack led a line of 23 people toward him. Mac staggered to his feet. He recognized them all even though he had barely glanced at them that day on the roof. The elderly couple huddled together with the woman who had been pregnant but now held a newborn bundle in her arms. Caleb rested in Jack's arms sucking on his index finger looking at him curiously.

Every person carried a white lily. Mac stepped back as they neared. His breathing came faster, and his eyes searched for a direction to run away. Jack set the three-year-old down and crossed to Mac putting a firm hand on Mac's shoulder. It served the dual purpose of keeping Mac there and offering support. The woman gave her lily to Caleb, and the boy carefully laid it on the grave. In tears, the woman walked up to Mac and put a warm hand on his bare arm.

"Thank you." She said. Mac looked down unable to meet the gratitude pouring out of the woman's eyes with each tear. The old couple laid their lilies on the grave. The old man snapped to attention and gave the grave a stiff salute. After holding it for a long minute, the couple stopped in front of Mac. He received a kiss on his cheek from the old woman, and the man gave another crisp salute. Mac returned it offering it as a sign of respect. The line moved past in a slow blur. After paying their respects, the members of the apartment community slowly wound back to their cars and left. Behind them, another line waited. Mac surrendered to the tears as a long row of first responders in dress uniforms laid a penny on the top of the stone then formed in a group before Mac then saluted.

After everyone except Jack was gone, Mac collapsed to his knees again wracked with sobs. Jack held his brother close and sighed.

"You saved all of them, Mac."

"Except one." Mac managed.

"Yeah, except one who gave his life for others just like you and I would, just like everyone here has. That baby is breathing because of you. Those grandparents will see their great-grandchild because of you." Mac pulled back and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and leaned his head in his hands on his knees. Jack waited. Mac eventually lifted his head, leaned back and took a cleansing breath. The cemetery didn't seem as silent. He could hear birdsong and the gentle whisper of the trees planted among the dead. Jack waited his head bowed running his hand over the soft turf. Mac sighed and looked at Jack.

"Thanks, Jack." Jack looked up and studied Mac closely. Mac reached over and punched Jack on the shoulder. Jack grinned. That told him more than anything that while he might not be now, Mac knew he was going to be ok. Jack smiled and pulled Mac into a quick hug. Mac growled and shoved him away calling him a weepy Man-cub. Jack roared with laughter as he bent and helped Mac to his feet. The Shelby top down, blaring Willie Nelsen, and the close companionship that was part brother, part friend, part partner, but all family unknotted the stress inside the two men as they teased each other all the way home.

****And there it is my friends, the end. I have to admit I'm sniffling over this one. A lighter shorter story is coming; I'm not going to say anything because it's going to be a surprise-then Corydon! Thank you so much for reading, favoriting and following. Special extra thanks to those who commented! Knowing there are people like you reading and enjoying what I write is the best incentive to post quickly. Every story I learn more, and this is all thanks to you 100%. Until next time, Peace