MacGyver's condition improves, but his friendship with Dalton and Pete becomes strained...


Jungle Paradise Part Seven
Rated: PG

Several weeks passed, and MacGyver was still in a coma. Like an estranged couple visiting their child, Jack Dalton and Pete Thornton arranged their schedules carefully so that they would not run into each other at the hospital, seeing MacGyver individually and not speaking to each other. If their visitation periods did overlap, they avoided eye contact and brushed passed each other silently. When Pete received a call one night from the hospital informing him that MacGyver had finally awakened from his coma, he rushed there, surprised and disconcerted to see that Jack had already arrived and was standing by MacGyver’s bedside.

“Oh…I didn’t realize you were here,” he said.

“They called me,” Jack said, glaring at Pete and holding MacGyver’s hand. “Not that you ever would.”

Before Pete could offer a retort, Dr. Garrison entered the room, looking at both of them. She sensed their unease, and unaware of their current acrimonious battle, figured they were anxious to hear about MacGyver’s prognosis.

“I’m glad you’re both here,” she said, glancing occasionally at MacGyver’s chart.

“How is he?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, they told me over the phone he was out of the coma,” Jack said.

“He is; however, he still has a long way to recovery.”

“How long are we talking about?” Pete asked.

Dr. Garrison looked at MacGyver and sighed. “It depends how he responds after his coma,” she said. “Right now, it’s too early to determine the extent of damage to his brain. Coma patients generally begin to acquire the ability to respond in increments. So far, he was only awake for a few minutes, which is normal for a coma patient who has just regained consciousness. We’ll have to monitor his responses as they progress. There is also the concern still for his liver, kidneys, and spleen from the malaria. He may have to undergo more dialysis treatments if his renal functioning does not return to normal upon recovering as well.”

“That’s why he’s asleep right now,” Jack said, sounding relieved. “I thought he had slipped back into a coma again.”

Dr. Garrison checked MacGyver’s vital signs. “He does appear only to be asleep,” she said. “His heart and sinus rhythms are normal, as are his brain waves, so that’s a good indicator. Just weeks ago we were dealing with arrhythmia. His body functions are growing increasingly steady, but, as I said, it’s a matter of time.”

“I understand,” Pete said. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jack said.

Dr. Garrison offered a thin, professional smile. “I’ll leave you alone with him for awhile,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything, and also be aware that he may not regain consciousness again today. You must be patient.”

They watched as she left, and then turned to face each other, their intense dislike blazing in their eyes.

“Maybe you should step outside for awhile until I’m finished seeing Mac,” Pete said, trying to control the anger in his voice, “and then you can come in later after I’m gone.”

“Hey, he’s my friend, too,” Jack said.

Pete snorted. “Yeah, some friend. You practically led him to his death,” he said, his voice filled with hate.

“If it wasn’t for me getting him out of that god-forsaken jungle, he would be dead right now, so I don’t want to hear it!” Jack hissed.

A mocking, cruel grin spread across Pete’s mouth. “If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place!” He said. “Besides, he did almost die. What would you have done then?”

Jack looked down at MacGyver, holding back tears. “I try not to think about that,” he said. “The important thing is that he’s alive, that he didn’t die.”

“You just don’t want to think about what could have happened, do you?”

“I don’t want to torture myself! Look Pete, it’s hard enough for me to accept this as it is without you piling on more guilt!”

MacGyver heard familiar voices echoing around him in the darkness. Instead of reassuring him and welcoming him back from the nebulous abyss he was slowly emerging from, vaguely remembering falling ill, they were arguing, their voices laced with the acidity of their rancor. He opened his eyes, seeing two blurred forms standing over him that became Jack and Pete as they focused, the sterile, blinding white light of the hospital environment surrounding them. If he had been a religious man, they would have seemed like angels greeting him, but their behavior towards each other made mistaking them for angels preposterous. They were two petty, flawed men, fighting over his body as if he wasn’t there, their faces creased with anger. He didn’t know how he had ended up in the hospital or how long he had been there, but it seemed as if it had been years when he saw how those two were acting, quarreling and bickering like an old married couple. It didn’t completely shock him to see that Jack and Pete weren’t getting along—they often had their differences. Seeing them locked in such a vicious campaign against each other did surprise him, however. He had never seen either of them attack in such a way before. It worried, disappointed, and angered him. He tried to speak, to let him know he was there, but all he could do was stare, nothing in his body cooperating. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t move, but he tried again to speak anyway.

‘Stop it!’ He shouted in his mind, wishing they could hear him, straining to move his lips, but nothing happened. Not even a small guttural sound escaped his still throat. ‘Stop fighting! Can’t you see I’m here? Stop!’

In the heat of their argument, Pete looked away from Jack for a moment, and as he did this, he noticed two brown eyes staring up at him, pleading.

“Jack, shut up for a minute! MacGyver’s awake again,” he said.

“MacGyver! Can you hear me? How are you, pal?” Jack asked, smiling.

“Easy Jack, I’ve been through this with him before. You heard what the doctor said. It might take awhile before he can fully respond.”

‘Pete?’ MacGyver asked in his mind. Flashes of memory from the last time he found himself in such a state returned to him. ‘Is that what happened to me? I was in a coma again?’

He continued to stare at them, to read them with his eyes. He saw their concern for him clearly, but he couldn’t forget how they had been treating each other just moments earlier.

“Don’t worry, Mac, we’re here for you,” Pete said.

As they watched him, looking for any sign of movement, they noticed a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, along with what appeared to be faint traces of a frown forming.

“Are you happy? He looks upset,” Jack said. “He probably heard every word we said.”

“I didn’t start it.”

“Yes you did!”

‘Please, stop acting like children!’ MacGyver shouted in his mind, frustrated that he couldn’t vocalize his displeasure. “What…is wrong…with you?’

His eyelids grew heavy, and blackness enveloped him again.

***

Over time, MacGyver’s condition gradually and steadily improved to where he was speaking and interacting again, yet he still had to endure long, torturous sessions with a physical therapist and other specialists that monitored his progress constantly, searching for any signs of mental or physical impairment or lingering symptoms of the severe malaria that had crippled him and nearly killed him weeks earlier. His kidneys had not recovered completely yet, so he had to undergo a few final dialysis treatments before the doctors trusted that they could function again on their own. While he was sitting for one of the treatments in his wheelchair, hating the feeling of being chained to a machine, ready and desperate to be active again, he saw Pete enter and approach him, a mournful, pensive expression on his face.

“Pete,” he said, his voice still weak from lack of use. He smiled. “Come on, I’m not dead yet.”

Pete laughed slightly, finding a chair and pulling it up beside his friend. “I’m sorry,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

He wasn’t used to seeing his friend in the role of invalid before. He was still thinner than normal and pale, looking small and fragile, but his eyes were bright and the expression on his face made him look youthful.

“Uh…better, I guess,” MacGyver said. “I don’t really know. I can’t remember half of what happened. All I remember is getting really sick, and then I ended up here.”

“Well, you were lucky. It was really close there for awhile. You almost died.”

“I know, Pete,” MacGyver said, gently patting his friend on the arm, hearing the worry in his voice. “It’s okay now. I’ll be all right. Who would have thought a little mosquito could cause that much damage, huh?” He smiled.

“Yeah,” Pete said, trying to smile as well.

MacGyver watched Pete for awhile, noticing that he looked distracted by something, his eyes darting around the hospital. “What is it?” He asked.

“What?” Pete asked, startled and ashamed that MacGyver caught his nervousness. “Oh, it’s nothing, MacGyver.”

MacGyver narrowed his eyes. He thought about when he awoke from his coma only to find his two best friends fighting. “It’s about Jack, isn’t it?” He asked.

Pete shrugged. “No…I…”

“Don’t patronize me, Pete, not after what I’ve been through,” MacGyver said, an edge to his voice. “I know what’s going on between you two. I never see you in here together. You can’t hide this from me. I’m too observant. It’s kind of an annoying habit I have.”

“Okay fine,” Pete said, sighing. “You want to know why we never come to see you together? It’s because of how he treated you and how it caused you to end up this way.”

“Oh,” MacGyver said, unsure how to respond. He sat there for awhile, listening to the sounds of the dialysis machine.

“I mean, he leads you on to one catastrophe after another,” Pete said. “Thankfully, most of the time you come out of it relatively unscathed. This time…well, you almost weren’t so fortunate.”

“I see,” MacGyver said.

He fell silent again. He resented the way Pete made it sound, as if he couldn’t take care of himself or make his own decisions—as if he was a victim. Jack’s influence was powerful, and he was a slick con artist at times, but MacGyver never felt as if he was being led blindly like a fool or taken in on one of his scams. When it came to Jack Dalton, it was usually being in the wrong place at the wrong time that caused all the problems.

“Well, the mosquito is partly to blame here too, isn’t it?” He asked.

Pete rolled his eyes. “There you go defending him again,” he said. “Mac, he’s nothing but trouble. You wouldn’t have caught this disease had he not taken you with him on another foolhardy quest. He’s not a good friend. Let me ask you something…would a good friend take you against your will to a place where you weren’t prepared for the conditions and got violently ill and almost died as a result?”

“But I didn’t die, and Jack did get me out of there.”

“Are you saying you forgive him? I can’t believe you.”

“I don’t know what I feel, Pete. I’m still grappling with how I ended up this way and my recovery, and I’m overwhelmed. I do know that it doesn’t help me any to see my two best friends fighting and avoiding each other when they should at least attempt to unite and reconcile when the friend they share in common is suffering.”

Pete saw the depths of emotion in his friend’s soulful dark eyes. It never ceased to amaze him how perceptive and mature MacGyver was, seeing things the way no one else could.

“So…what are you suggesting?” He asked.

MacGyver sighed. “I know this isn’t easy for any of us. I’m still struggling with my own emotions, and I don’t know what to think about this whole experience, but I do know that you and Jack should at least try to come together for my benefit.” He looked around the hospital. “The doctors say I’ll be out of here soon. I’d like it if both you and Jack could take me home.”

“MacGyver…”

“Do it for me, Pete. Please.”

Pete squeezed his hand. As irritated as he was with Jack for getting MacGyver in this situation, he was still Mac’s friend. “All right, I’ll do it,” he said. “For you.”

***

After MacGyver was discharged from the hospital, he found himself stepping outside into the warm, welcoming sunshine of a pleasant day. A soft, fragrant breeze caressed his hair and face, and he briefly closed his eyes to feel it, glad to be rid of the stuffy, antiseptic atmosphere of the hospital. Jack and Pete stood waiting for him by Pete’s car, just as he had promised. They still looked uncomfortable around each other, but at least they were making an effort to be civil.

“Hey, there he is!” Jack said, smiling. He rushed over to MacGyver’s side, taking his arm. “Do you need some help?”

“I’m fine, Jack, thanks,” MacGyver said, brushing his arm away and heading towards the car, still looking a little unsteady on his feet. The sunlight revealed how pale his skin still was.

“Well, get in!” Jack said, opening the door to the back seat and making a grand, sweeping gesture towards it. He grinned, dangling the keys in the air, jingling them. “I’ll be your chauffer today, young man.”

Pete yanked the keys out of his hand. “I’m driving,” he said.

“But Pete, I want to drive,” Jack said.

Pete smirked. “What, and get us into an accident?” He asked. “This is my car, I’ll drive.”

Jack shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

Once they were all in the car, they started down the street toward MacGyver’s house boat. They were all silent for awhile, and when Pete glanced back at MacGyver in the rearview mirror, he saw that he looked distant, staring out the window as if he was reflecting on something. He could understand why, considering that he had just recovered from a coma and a deadly illness. He seemed to be taking everything in as he stared out the window, as if trying to reorient himself to his former life. Although he looked much healthier than he had in the hospital, he was still a little gaunt and looked tired. Pete released a sympathetic sigh for his friend and then returned to concentrating on the road.

“Man, why do we have to go so slow?” Jack asked. “If I was driving, we’d be there by now. Pete, please let me drive…please?”

“Sure, you can drive—you drive me up the wall!” Pete shouted, tightly gripping the steering wheel. “Jack, will you please calm down? We’ll get there when we get there!”

“Well, you’re driving like a granny.”

“Oh, and I suppose I should just recklessly get us to our destination without any thought about the consequences like you do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean you never exercise any judgment, Jack!”

“Oh boy, here we go. Just keep blaming me for what happened to Mac. Fine.”

“You should never have taken him in the first place!”

“Look,” Jack said, his voice raised to an angry roar. “How many times do I have to say this? I got him home! You don’t know how hard it was or how far I had to go to get him help! Hell, I almost died myself from the heat, but I never gave up!”

“You should have given up on that ridiculous trip in the first place, and then this would never have happened and we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”

“Oh God,” MacGyver groaned loudly, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.

“What is it, Mac? Are you feeling ill again?” Pete asked, glancing back at him with deep concern.

“Would you two please stop this argument? How many times are you going to repeat it? I’m getting so sick of it!” He shouted, his voice more forceful, stronger, and louder than both Pete’s and Jack’s combined.

Jack and Pete stared at him, stunned. They had never seen him so irate before.

“Mac, you have to agree that if it wasn’t for Jack, you wouldn’t have fallen ill,” Pete said.

“Oh gee, that’s great Pete…”

“Jack, you took me against my will! I didn’t want to go on your stupid treasure hunt!” MacGyver screamed. “Pete’s right. You may not have been the mosquito that bit me to cause my illness, but you exposed me to it! You used me, just like you always do!”

Deflated, Jack looked down at the floor, unable to bear seeing the rage that burned in MacGyver’s dark eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Pete asked, looking at Jack. “You see?”

“Oh, shut up, Pete! Don’t think for a minute that you’re some innocent saint in this whole thing!” MacGyver shouted, this time directing his wild eyes at him, his whole body trembling with adrenaline as he released the full force his anger for the first time since the incident.

“MacGyver, what do you mean?” Pete asked. “I’m not responsible for what happened to you. It was Jack’s fault!”

“I’m not talking about that! I’m talking about all the other times you put me on some assignment where I’m risking my life for you while you spend all your time in a cushy office!”

“But Mac…”

“As far as I’m concerned, you both use me for your own purposes. You just have a different approach, that’s all.”

“Mac, come on…”

“I’m just the guy that can help you out—the troubleshooter. That’s all I am to you, that’s all my life’s worth. Never once have either of you just treated me like a normal person! I’m just some tool for your own advancement! I’m just here to make you look good! Well, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of being treated like an object! I’m tired of you two fighting over me and acting as if I’m not here, that I can’t hear you or figure out what’s going on between you! I might have been sick, but I’m still here, damn it! Don’t you ever take into consideration what I might be going through?”

By this time, MacGyver’s voice was hoarse from all his shouting, but he didn’t care. He hated both of them. He had worked hard to be the peacemaker as usual, being polite and hoping there would be a resolution between them, but now he saw that it was impossible. During his recovery, he had tried to wrestle with what had happened to him, doing his best not to lay too much blame on Jack, but now he saw it all clearly. Neither of them really cared about him. They were too busy squabbling among themselves about who was the better friend when in reality neither of them was, paying little attention to him while they were wrapped up in their own agendas, both of them self-involved and inconsiderate, behaving like immature children instead of reasonable adults.

Jack and Pete were speechless after his rant. They had seen MacGyver get mad before, but never to this extent. He was so furious that his eyes gleamed with an unnatural sheen, and he looked robust where minutes before he still seemed weak and vulnerable.

“Stop the car,” MacGyver said, staring straight ahead, refusing to look at either of them.

“What? But MacGyver, we’re almost there,” Pete said, sounding shaken, still astonished by his friend’s unexpected tirade.

“I said, stop the car!” MacGyver shouted.

Closing his eyes and sighing, Pete reluctantly stopped. MacGyver got out quickly, still not looking at them.

Jack rolled down his window. “MacGyver, don’t leave like this,” he said. “We can work something out, all of us!”

MacGyver continued to ignore them, walking slowly toward the marina, his legs looking thin, wobbly, and unstable from their long period of being unused.

“We’ll call you, okay?” Jack called after him, hope in his voice.

Stopping, MacGyver turned to glare at them, revealing the hurt in his hard eyes.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I don’t want to see either of you again.”

He turned and continued his uneven pace toward his house, looking like the walking wounded.

Pete couldn’t stand watching him. It was obvious that despite his sessions with the physical therapist, he still needed a little help to get around, and he was refusing it, brazenly displaying his pathetic limp for them to see, proving that he could get by without them.

“Should we go after him?” Jack asked. “It looks like he’s struggling a bit.”

“No,” Pete said. “He’s being stubborn, and he’s in pain. I think we should leave him alone for awhile, just like he wants us to.” He looked at Jack. “I don’t know. Maybe he is right about us. Maybe he’d be better off if we weren’t in his life.”

To be continued…