I'm reposting parts of my story that were posted before but lost.
Here's part six.
A Little Problem Part Six
Rated: PG
Jack awoke to intense pain. His whole body still felt like it was on fire from the shock of the force field that had surrounded his body. The pain in his side grew worse, making it even more difficult to draw breath. He noticed that he was on his stomach, which was crushing his broken rib, the surface of the table he laid on rubbing uncomfortably against it. Gasping for air, he tried to turn onto his back, but something held him down. His legs and his arms were pinned, strapped down on the table, and he was trapped. Frantically, he struggled and pulled against the restraints, desperate to release the pressure of his body from his crushed rib.
Allen laughed, watching him fight. “Good, you’re awake again,” he said. “You are still a pitiful, pathetic fool.”
“So they tell me,” Jack said, wincing. He groaned and turned his head to face the giant man in front of him. He glared at him with his piercing dark eyes, determined not to let this monster intimidate him.
Allen smiled and pulled out the large syringe, tapping on it. The content was clear and looked like water, but it could’ve been anything. Jack knew it wouldn’t be anything pleasant or innocuous. Experience taught him better. He tried to remain stoic while staring at the enormous, long needle, but it was difficult. He gasped in pain and in fear, his eyes widening. And he thought Dr. Frasier’s needles were scary. This one was bigger than he was. Terrified, he began struggling again.
“If you move, it will only make the pain of the injection worse,” Allen said, preparing the needle. He moved behind Jack, where Jack couldn’t see him anymore.
“What…what are you gonna do?” Jack asked, surprised to hear panic in his voice. “No, please, don’t…”
Jack’s struggles against the restraints grew more violent and he twisted his head behind him, trying to see what this Dr. Frankenstein was about to do to him. He could barely see the outline of Allen’s face and little more. He tried to lift his head higher and turn it behind him more, straining his neck. Allen pushed his head down with his giant thumb, smashing his face into the table. Jack groaned, feeling completely helpless.
“No looking,” Allen said. “It’s a surprise.” He found a tender spot in Jack’s back and jammed the needle into him.
Jack screamed, feeling like he’d been stabbed. Still hanging above the laboratory on his string, all MacGyver could do was watch this barbarity and wait until Allen left so he could rescue Jack. He winced in pain over watching Jack suffer so intensely. He felt angry and frustrated, hanging high in the air, unable to help him. He wanted to scream at this man, punch him, and fight with him for making his cousin feel so much pain. Normally, he tried to find nonviolent solutions to problems, but his rage with Allen reminded him of the rage he felt when Larson was spewing his nasty hate talk, speaking of murder callously. Allen wasn’t any different. He was another hateful man who had no feeling for others. MacGyver knew if he was Allen’s size, he wouldn’t hesitate to smash him up badly for what he’d done to Jack O’Neill. He couldn’t stand to watch his own blood treated this way.
Allen stepped away, admiring his work. Some blood came from the injection spot on Jack’s back, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. Smirking, he put the syringe away.
“Now, I’ll see how your little body reacts to that,” he said. “It’s a special concoction of mine, one that really should have been quarantined long ago. Maybe you have immunity to it. If not…well, it won’t matter. You’ll die, and I’ll just have to continue my research on another subject.” He turned and left the laboratory, leaving Jack strapped to the little table, moaning in pain.
Allen’s departure finally gave MacGyver the perfect opportunity to slowly lower himself into Jack’s cage. He tried to forget his fear of heights, focusing entirely on helping Jack. Once he was inside the cage with Jack, MacGyver removed his harness and ran over to Jack, whose condition appeared to be worsening by the minute.
“Jack,” MacGyver said, taking his cousin’s hand. “Jack, can you hear me?”
Jack released an inarticulate mumble, staring at MacGyver with glazed brown eyes.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” MacGyver said, patting Jack on the hand.
He took out his knife and began cutting through the restraints. Once they were loose and Jack was completely free of them, he fell off the table, collapsing to the floor of the cage in a weak pile. MacGyver tried to catch him to ease his fall, but since both men were the same height, it made it difficult. Jack cried out in pain as the wound where the injection had been ground into the floor of the cage. MacGyver gently turned him, trying to avoid his broken rib, trying to get him in a comfortable position. Weakly, Jack fought him, moaning, his eyes half closed.
“Easy Jack, let me take a look at it,” he said.
He ripped off a part of his shirt and used it as a bandage, applying pressure to the bleeding on Jack’s back. It looked pretty bad, as if the needle had torn a significant hole in his back. Jack hissed in pain, gritting his teeth. He thrashed around weakly, gasping for breath, his breaths coming in ragged wheezes.
“Mac…MacGyver…” he whispered, looking up at his cousin with pain-filled eyes.
“Shh, just relax Jack,” he said. “You’re going to be all right.”
MacGyver fought back tears. It was difficult to see his cousin, who was always defiant, always stubborn, and always strong battling for his life as he was now. He could feel Jack’s muscles beginning to tense, and he went into convulsions. He tried to hold him as the convulsions grew more violent, foam coming from his mouth.
“Easy, Jack! Take it easy! Calm down!” MacGyver shouted, using more of his shirt to wipe away the saliva that frothed around Jack’s mouth.
Jack’s eyes shut tightly against the pain. All his muscles went into spasms. It felt like someone was shoving their fists inside his body and twisting his muscles beyond the point of endurance. He felt hot, yet he shivered. Tears squeezed out from beneath his tightly shut eyelids, the pain becoming too much for him to bear. His body twisted in agony and he moaned.
“Jack, come on, stay with me!” MacGyver said, holding his cousin’s head in his hands. He could feel how hot his skin was to the touch, alternating with cold, clammy sweat. His fever grew higher and higher.
‘MacGyver, I’m dying,’ Jack’s mind said.
Confused momentarily about the origins of the voice, MacGyver looked around. He then looked down at Jack, who had managed to open his eyes to slits, staring up at MacGyver, pleading with him. He realized that Jack was communicating to him telepathically again, the pain making it too difficult to speak.
“You’re not dying, Jack,” MacGyver said aloud in response. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
‘You’re a lousy liar,’ Jack’s mind said. ‘That scumbag shot me up with something, and now I’m dying.’
“You won’t die,” MacGyver said. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
As Jack continued to twitch and moan in MacGvyer’s arms, MacGyver did his best to search around the lab for options on how to best escape with his seriously ill and injured cousin. Climbing out didn’t seem to be the best option anymore, but there were plenty of things in the lab that would prove useful and could get them out. The only problem was, all of the scientific equipment was much larger than it would be at home, and getting to it would be next to impossible at his size. Still, he tried to think of a way. Jack coughed and twitched in his arms, and he knew he had little time to waste.
“Just hold on, Jack,” he said.
Allen returned to the lab, a smile on his face when he saw what was going on inside the cage. The other, nearly identical, tiny man had appeared. Looking up, he saw a string dangling from the ceiling. He laughed and yanked it down.
“Your species isn’t as stupid as I thought,” he said. “This was a rather clever stunt you pulled, trying to rescue him. You’re a little too late for that however, I’m afraid. Now, you’re also my subject, which is exactly what I wanted—the two of you, together. You make fine specimens, and you’re so much alike. It’s absolutely extraordinary.”
MacGyver glared up at him, feeling as small and powerless as he actually was compared to this giant man. He could still feel Jack’s body twitch in his arms. “What did you to do him?” He asked.
Allen’s face got close to the cage, a threatening, cold glare in his eyes. Human evil was always an ugly, terrifying thing to witness, but when the face was magnified by size, it made it even worse.
“That’s none of your concern,” he said. “I have something better to try on you.”
***
“Now,” Allen said, preparing a new syringe, “this isn’t what I gave your friend there. This might even be considered better. It’s been known to cause brain damage in some species. Considering how clever you are, well…it might just be interesting to see what it does to you, now won’t it?” He began to approach the cage, preparing to grab MacGyver and strap him to the table.
“Stop!” Susan shouted, running into the laboratory.
“Susan!” MacGyver shouted.
Allen turned, leering at her. “You’re just in time,” he said. “You can assist me with my experiments.”
Susan looked at Jack. He was convulsing and looked pale. MacGyver held him and looked at her, shaking his head, sorrow in his dark eyes. Anger and disgust creased her features as she glared at Allen.
“I will never assist you in your torture,” she said.
Allen laughed. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” He asked. “Susan, I’m trying to find an end to disease.”
“By killing innocent beings from other planets?”
“One of them might have immunity to the illnesses that plague our society. If they happen to die in the process, well, then I know I must move on to the next species.”
“How can you justify it like that? What you are doing is inhumane and cruel. These beings didn’t volunteer to be your test subjects!”
“What do you think our mission is here? We’re supposed to study alien life! That’s what I’m doing!”
“We’re not supposed to study it like this,” Susan said, glancing briefly at the two small men in the cage, deep sympathy in her eyes. She returned her hard glare to Allen. “As far as I can tell, you enjoy killing the alien species we encounter. What you’re doing is not for science—it’s for your own sadistic entertainment to see how much pain you can inflict on others!”
Allen smirked. “You know, I’d love to stand here and debate with you, but I’ve got work to do, so if you don’t mind…”
Susan lunged at him, pinning him down against his desk with her arm. She grabbed the syringe that he had used on Jack, the clear liquid still inside it. She pointed it at his neck.
“What did you use on Jack?” She asked. “Tell me, or I’ll use it on you!”
The sound of shuffling boots could be heard outside the laboratory door. Soon, several soldiers entered, all aiming their weapons at Allen. A tall, dignified man with white hair and a stern yet calm, almost kindly face entered, wearing a suit.
“It’s all right, Susan,” he said, removing the leather gloves he wore. “We have him covered.”
“Yes sir,” Susan said, releasing Allen.
Sitting up, Allen stared in wonder at the leader of their planet, Director Turnbull.
“Director,” he said, trying to recover his composure. He straightened his lab coat and stood vainly, doing his best to make a good impression. “What brings you to my laboratory?”
“Susan tells me that you are abusing your scientific license,” Turnbull said. “Is that true?”
“That’s preposterous,” Allen said, effectively hiding his nervousness, his surface appearance one of complete control, his demeanor calm and detached. “Apparently Susan and I have professional differences about how to conduct our studies. I prefer results whereas she prefers theory and conjecture.” He glared at Susan.
“She tells me that you senselessly kill many of the alien species we have encountered, using your so-called experiments and the interest of science as your justification.”
“Well Director, sir, unfortunately lives are sacrificed sometimes in the name of science and progress.”
Turnbull shook his head. “These deaths were intentional, premeditated. If one method didn’t work to kill an alien species, you would try another one until you succeeded in murdering them. Susan has told me all of this.”
Allen laughed. “You’re not going to listen to her, are you Director? It’s obvious that she’s unfit for scientific research. She’s using some personal vendetta she has against me and my professional success to ruin me. You have absolutely no proof that these allegations are true!”
“Yes we do, Allen,” Turnbull said. He pulled out several lab reports from his overcoat. “We have direct evidence.”
“You see, I didn’t destroy all your lab reports,” Susan said, grinning at Allen.
Allen’s face began to turn red, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
“All these reports show that you used the cover of scientific experiments to conduct your exterminations,” Turnbull said. “I’m afraid I cannot continue to allow you to be the Head of Interplanetary Species Research with such damning evidence.”
“But you don’t understand,” Allen said.
“I understand perfectly well, Allen,” Turnbull said. “What you are doing is not only cruel; it endangers the security of our planet. How long did you think it would be until one of these planets retaliated for the death of one of their own? I’m afraid we cannot afford such a risk.”
“You can’t do this!” Allen yelled. He tried to run out of the lab, but Turnbull’s security detail grabbed him, pointing their weapons at him.
“Get him out of my sight,” Turnbull said. He looked at Susan. “You are the new head of interplanetary research.”
“NO!” Allen roared, desperately fighting the strong grip of the guards. “You can’t do this! You don’t know what I’ve accomplished! All our progress will get thrown back if she heads the research! We’ll never learn a thing! Not a damn thing! Listen to me!”
“Get him out of here,” Turnbull said to his guards. “I’m tired of listening to him.”
“Yes sir,” one of the guards said.
They dragged Allen out of the laboratory. Susan shuddered, filled with adrenalin. She didn’t ever believe she could finally fight Allen, but she had. Everything had happened so fast, she was a little overwhelmed. Turnbull noticed this and put his hand on her trembling shoulder.
“You were right, Susan,” he said. “Our project has no place for people like Allen if we are to preserve the peace.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, looking at the floor.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, sir.”
Turnbull glanced at the tiny men in the cage. The one that was ill was beginning to look worse, his breathing labored and his complexion ghostly pale. “You had better help them,” he said, pointing toward the cage. “I’ll take care of Allen.”
Susan turned to look. The severity of Jack’s condition immediately compelled her to action. She rushed over to the cage to communicate with them. Turnbull watched her in admiration. When he first met her, she was too scared of Allen to question any of his methods. Now, she was taking charge, as she should have all along. He knew he had finally made the right decision. She was going to make a great Head of Interplanetary Research. He smiled at her before turning to leave.
“MacGyver, what happened?” She asked, watching as Jack struggled to breathe, convulsions periodically wracking his damaged body.
“Allen injected him with something,” MacGyver said.
Susan went over to where she had put down the syringe with the clear liquid. She brought it over to MacGyver. “Was it this?” She asked.
“Yeah, it’s some kind of clear liquid.”
Susan studied it carefully. She went over to a microscope and put a drop of the fluid on a slide to look at it under the magnifier. When she saw the twisted red vines, she gasped. She turned off the microscope and returned to MacGyver and Jack.
“It’s one of our viruses,” she said.
“Is there anything you can do?” MacGyver asked.
“It’s deadly if not treated, but fortunately, there is something I can do for him. His recovery won’t be easy, though.”
“Let’s do it, and fast,” MacGyver said, looking down at Jack. He coughed and twitched, his face having the translucent quality of someone nearing death.
***
“Poor Jack!” Ellie said when Susan brought MacGyver and Jack home, carrying them in a box. Tears came to her eyes when she saw how weak and sick Jack looked. “Is he going to die? Please, don’t let him die!”
“No sweetie,” Susan said, kissing her daughter on the top of her head. “Jack’s not going to die. Mommy gave him some medicine, and he’ll get well, but it will take some time, I’m afraid.”
“We don’t have much time,” MacGyver said, looking up at the two giants. He felt for Jack’s pulse. It was fluttering, and he was in a deep state of unconsciousness, the fever still ravaging his body. “I need to get him home and have one of our doctors take a look at him and help him through recovery.”
“You’re not going to leave now, are you? Please, don’t go! Mom will take care of Jack while he’s sick! She’s the best there is! She once helped me get through the Katavian Flu.”
“MacGyver’s right, Ellie,” Susan said, placing her hand gently on her daughter’s back. “Jack needs to get home where people from his own planet can help him. They can’t stay here with us. They don’t belong here.”
“But there’s the doll house,” Ellie said quietly, no longer convinced. She knew her mother was right.
Susan smiled at her daughter. “The question is, how are we going to get you home?” She asked.
“Through the stargate,” MacGyver said.
“Right, the stargate. I don’t know what that is. All the other aliens that have been here came on ships. What does it look like?”
“It’s a round portal with symbols on it.”
“Where do you think it is?”
MacGyver thought about the unusual scenery they had encountered when they first left the stargate, and how he later realized that they were in a giant backyard with giant blades of grass. At his size, it seemed like the trek through the bizarre forest had taken hours, but in reality, they had probably never left Susan’s backyard.
“I think it’s in your backyard,” he said.
***
Concern for Jack grew as Susan and Ellie carried MacGyver and Jack through the backyard. He was deathly silent and still, his breathing shallow. MacGyver peered around the edges of the box Susan carried them in, searching for the stargate.
“What’s this?” Ellie asked, stopping to pick up a small white rocket device that lay in the grass.
MacGyver looked at it, amazed by how small it looked in the child’s massive hands. “That’s one of the probes sent by my planet,” he said. “We must not be too far away from the stargate.”
“Your people tried to contact you with this?” Susan asked.
“Yes. They sent it through the stargate.”
“How does this stargate work?”
“It’s a wormhole that allows us to travel to different planets and different dimensions.”
Just as MacGyver was explaining how the stargate worked, he saw it. From his point of view, being carried by Susan at a great height, it looked tiny. It wasn’t like the impressive structure he first saw with amazement when Jack introduced him to it.
“Stop! This is it!” He said. “Look down!”
Susan and Ellie stopped, looking down at the small round object.
“But that’s a feature for my garden,” Susan said.
MacGyver smiled. “Trust me, Susan, it’s far more than that. Now, lower me down. I need to dial home.”
Susan and Ellie exchanged confused glances. Lowering the box, Susan watched as MacGyver climbed out and dialed home on the small round pedestal. She and Ellie were amazed when the small round stone structure glowed to life, a watery, shimmering pool exploding in the center.
“It’s beautiful,” Ellie said.
“So, you walk through that?” Susan asked.
“Yes ma’am.”
“And it gets you home, to your planet?”
“It sure does.”
“Someday, you’re going to have to show me more about how this works.”
MacGyver smiled. “Gladly,” he said. He looked at Jack, his smile fading to concern. “First, we’d better get Jack home.”
MacGyver climbed back into the box to retrieve Jack. Susan watched him struggle to figure out the best way to move Jack closer to the stargate without injuring him further.
“I’ll help you,” Ellie said. She gently scooped them up in her hand.
***
“We’re receiving SG-1’s code, sir,” the man in the control room said.
“Well, it’s about time,” General Hammond said.
“After all those probes we sent through, we finally get a message,” Sam said, running a tired hand through her blonde hair. She had been working nonstop, trying to find her missing CO and MacGyver.
“It is indeed good news,” Teal’c said.
“I wonder what happened to them,” Daniel said. “I wonder if they encountered that thing that chased us.”
All of them were waiting patiently, hoping the two men would return through the gate unharmed. A tense, quiet excitement grew as the moments passed and they stared expectantly at the shimmering blue wormhole. The soldiers in the Gate room also waited, posed and ready to fire if necessary, their weapons drawn and pointed directly at the gate.
All of them expected Colonel Jack O’Neill and MacGyver. None of them expected to see them pass through the gate, cradled in a giant hand.
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
which I think I'll go there next. LOL! 
