All right, guys, here's the conclusion to this story. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it, because I enjoyed writing it!
Dark Visions Part Seven
Rated: R
One year later…
MacGyver sat in the middle of a grassy field near Pete’s rebuilt cabin, his knees drawn up to his chest. He listened to the birds and felt the warm summer breeze caress his hair. His appearance was no longer gaunt and pale. He had gained some weight and color returned to his skin. His scars had healed, all except the still vivid line across his wrist where he had tried to slice it open. While he looked healthier than he had during his time in the psychiatric ward and his sanity had slowly returned to him, a haunted look still darkened his eyes. As he closed them to try to relax and absorb his pleasant surroundings, nightmarish scenes of Zito’s brutal murders and torture returned to him, forcing him to gasp in terror and open his eyes to return to reality.
Shuddering slightly, remembering the spilled blood of Zito’s victims blending with his own, he hugged his knees tighter towards him seeking warmth and comfort even though the temperature outside was already balmy. Every time he closed his eyes, he was confronted with those horrific images of slaughter and torture, making it difficult to sleep. He had improved from continued sessions with Dr. Beatty, but he didn’t think anything could ever permanently erase the memories of what he had endured and barely survived. All of Zito’s victims had died in front of him in violent ways, and he had been too beaten, helpless, and terrified to help them. Their deaths almost tormented his thoughts more than reliving the excruciating, unbearable pain of his torture.
He heard a rustling behind him that caused him to jump and snap his head in the direction of the sound, completely alert, his eyes wide with fear and anticipating danger. He relaxed when he saw it was only Pete. Pete noticed this hyper-vigilant reaction from MacGyver and sighed, knowing he shouldn’t have crept up to him so unexpectedly. Dr. Beatty had warned him that he would still exhibit symptoms of post-traumatic stress. She cautioned Pete that he might be fully healed physically and functioning better mentally, but nothing would ever help him fully recover from the indescribable hell he had been through, leaving him with a permanent scar in his memories. She told him he would have to remain gentle when dealing with MacGyver for awhile. The terror in MacGyver’s eyes when he first turned in his direction broke Pete’s heart. He almost thought that MacGyver had once again reverted to his fearful state, where he only saw Pete as his torturer. Thankfully, when he saw MacGyver relax, he knew his friend was still with him.
“Sorry,” he said, sitting down near MacGyver. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s all right, Pete,” MacGyver said, staring straight ahead, a pensive expression on his face.
They were silent for awhile. Pete didn’t know what to say to MacGyver. Everything he thought of seemed so superficial compared to what his best friend had been through. He wasn’t sure how to begin a relationship with him again after something so traumatic. Pete could still see the pain in MacGyver’s eyes. He heard him at night when he thrashed around and cried out during nightmares. He tried to soothe and calm him and brought him up to his restored cabin to continue to recuperate, but all his efforts to help his friend seemed minimal. At least he could console himself with the knowledge that Zito was dead and MacGyver had returned to him, even though he knew a part of his friend’s brilliant mind would always remain damaged from his experience in the hands of that madman.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” Pete asked lamely, unsure of what else to say but feeling as if he needed to say something to break the uncomfortable silence between them.
A slight smile curved the corners of MacGyver’s mouth. “Beautiful,” he said, still staring into the distance of the field. A small insect landed on his arm, tickling the hair on it. He looked down at it and gently brushed it away into the grass.
Pete looked at him. Even though he was sitting right next to MacGyver, it seemed like he was miles away, staring once again into the distance.
“Listen Mac,” he said, sighing. “I’m really sorry.”
MacGyver finally turned to face Pete, his eyes dark and intense. “For what, Pete?” He asked.
Pete felt himself shrinking away from those piercing eyes. “Well, you know…” his voice trailed away.
MacGyver stared at him, blinking slowly. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, “It was mine.” He turned back toward the field, staring ahead again.
“What? MacGyver, how can you say that?” Pete asked.
“I thought you did this to me,” MacGyver said, looking down at the ground. “I was so convinced…I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“Mac, you weren’t in your right mind,” Pete said. “Zito conditioned you to believe that I was your torturer. There was nothing you could have done in that situation. You were powerless against it.”
“Yeah, powerless,” MacGyver said angrily, ripping out a blade of hollow grass and snapping it. “Those people still died in front of me, and I did nothing.”
“There was nothing you could do,” Pete said, noticing the edge in MacGyver’s voice.
“I could’ve been stronger,” MacGyver said, tossing the blade of grass. “I could have resisted his methods of torture.”
“Mac, don’t blame yourself,” Pete said. “You still managed to escape from him when he almost killed you. You helped us stop him from killing his final victim. He’s gone now, Mac. He can’t do anymore damage.”
MacGyver stared ahead again, and there was silence between the two men for awhile.
“I don’t know what else to do to help you through this, except be your friend,” Pete said.
MacGyver looked at him and smiled slightly. “I appreciate that, Pete. Believe me, that’s plenty,” he said. He looked away again, his smile fading quickly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever remember everything that happened to me, or if I want to. When I became aware again…it’s hard to explain. It was like awakening from a long nightmare.”
“Actually, in a way you did,” Pete said. “Zito succeeded in making you a captive to your own terrorized mind. You were locked away in it, lost to us for a very long time.”
A dark cloud overhead blotted out the sun. Soft thunder rumbled in the distance. MacGyver looked up and the sky, and then back at Pete. “You didn’t give up on me,” he said quietly.
Pete almost thought he saw tears moistening his friend’s eyes. “MacGyver, you know I never would,” he said. “I always knew you’d pull through this, even when you distrusted me.”
“I’ll never forget those people…murdered, in front of me while I was forced to watch…Pete, what use can I be now? I might be talking and functioning again, but I can’t get rid of those memories no matter how hard I try. A part of me will always be…damaged, somehow.”
“MacGyver, don’t talk about yourself like that,” Pete said. “You’re not a broken down piece of machinery—you’re my friend. Better than that, you’re still the best man I know for the job.”
“I’ve been considering resigning,” MacGyver said, staring directly at Pete.
“Don’t do that, Mac,” Pete said. “Don’t say that. If you leave, think of all the other people who might suffer if you aren’t there to help them. You might not have been able to save those people Zito murdered, but you can still help others. Don’t let Zito win, Mac. Don’t let what he did to you stop you from living your life again!”
MacGyver sniffed, and Pete thought he saw a tear slide down his cheek. “Pete,” he said, breaking down into a fit of sobbing.
Quickly, Pete held him, hugging him tightly and comforting him. It pained and shocked him to see his friend this way, especially since he was usually so strong and confident. He might have been better than he was in the hospital, but he was still weakened by the torture and the things he’d experienced. Zito may have been dead, but his influence still lingered as MacGyver’s convulsive sobs rocked through Pete’s body as he held him.
“You’re going to be all right, Mac,” Pete said. “Dr. Beatty tells me you’re progressing every day. Just don’t give up on me, all right? I won’t give up on you.”
“I know you won’t, Pete,” MacGyver said, his voice muffled from being half buried in Pete’s shoulder.
The thunder overhead grew louder, and the breeze increased until it became windy. Pete looked up at the dark, threatening storm clouds. “It’s going to rain,” he said. “We’d better go inside the cabin. Do you want some help up?”
MacGyver released himself from Pete and managed a small smile. “No, I can get up myself,” he said. “Thanks, though. I’ll be all right.”
Pete stood, and as he watched MacGyver stand and follow him towards the cabin, he knew his friend would truly be all right, in every sense of the word.
The End
"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
so I don't know yet what the next story will be. 
