This part took me a little bit longer to write--I apologize for the delay!
Speechless Part Two
Rated: PG
A few days later…
“I’ve been consulting with MacGyver’s psychiatrist Dr. Ladd on this matter,” Dr. Carrington said, meeting Pete and the psychiatrist in the hallway outside MacGyver’s hospital room where he was being kept for observation and testing. “Apparently he believes there may be a psychological component to MacGyver’s breakdown and dysfunction of language creation, both written and verbally.”
“Really? How so?” Pete asked, hoping for an answer that would at last explain what was happening to his friend.
Dr. Ladd adjusted his glasses and looked at both men, a sober expression on his face, his blue-gray eyes clear. He looked around to make sure they had enough privacy before he began, checking to see if the hallway was clear of nurses and orderlies. “He was severely tortured several years ago,” he said, mainly to Dr. Carrington since Pete already knew the sickening details, his voice low. “Most of what he told me they did to him I cannot repeat in polite society. It is simply abominable, beyond our worst concepts of cruelty, brutality, and barbarism what he was subjected to during that traumatic time. I have treated POWs, hostages, and others in captivity situations for 25 years, and never before had I heard anything as horrific as what MacGyver suffered at the hands of his captors. He is fortunate to have survived at all. Enduring that kind of stress places an enormous strain on the body as you are well aware, both physiologically and psychologically. What happened to him may have been years ago, but he is still scarred, still deeply affected. He still suffers from post-traumatic stress episodes, and my theory is that his confusion and disruption of language has something to do with that.”
Pete nodded, thinking it made sense. “What do you think?” He asked Dr. Carrington.
“We have both tested him independently,” he said, “and both of us have gathered the same results. In overall cognitive functioning, he performs extremely well on math, spatial ability, reasoning, logic, and problem solving. When he took the verbal portion of the test, he performed poorly, well below average. His grammar, usage, and syntax are all scrambled and chaotic, lacking pattern, clarity, and organization. He became increasingly angry, desperate, and frustrated during this portion of the test, seeming to insist in his own incoherent, disorganized manner of speech that we should be able to understand him.”
“Post traumatic stress can sometimes inhibit normal brain functioning,” Dr. Ladd said. “That could be the reason for what is happening to him now. Considering there has been no injury to his brain to impair his language abilities that is the best explanation I have at this point.”
“Again, all his other tests produced normal results as well,” Dr. Carrington said. “He’s perfectly healthy. We cannot detect any signs of injury, disease, or foreign substances in his body that could have caused this.”
“I see,” Pete said, sighing. “Well, what do you suggest? This isn’t going to be a permanent state for him, is it? I mean, he is going to be able to speak clearly and normally again at some point, right? What can we do?”
“All we can do is keep working with him,” Dr. Ladd said. He smiled slightly and sympathetically at Pete, looking weary. “Remember, he’s been through a lot already, and he has recovered before. We can only hope the situation will be the same in this instance.”
Pete couldn’t believe it, saddened by what he heard. Once again, El Diablo had kept his promise, reaching out from beyond the grave to inflict more torment on MacGyver, his destructive influence inescapable, creating a devastating ripple effect on MacGyver’s soul and mind.
Loud screams erupting from MacGyver’s room alerted all three men. A nurse who had been inside checking on him bolted hurriedly from the room. “Doctor, I need your help,” she said breathlessly.
Without hesitation, they all dashed inside the room. MacGyver was thrashing around on the bed, his face contorted in pain, fear, and distress and soaked in sweat.
“I think he’s having a nightmare,” the nurse said.
Pete remembered painfully how MacGyver would cry out during his nightmares, usually in Spanish. Now, none of what he yelled made sense, his language disorder carried into his subconscious mind, buried deeply, his words once again a tangled, confused jumble, out of order and lacking reason. His violent motions had caused the shirt of his hospital uniform to get pushed up, revealing in ugly, brutal detail the jagged scars that lined his body, evidence of his torture once again presenting itself, refusing to remain hidden, refusing to fade. Their shocking appearance still affected Pete and Dr. Ladd, who had seen them many times before, but Dr. Carrington and the nurse looked completely appalled when they saw them, not expecting them, not allowed time to get used to seeing them, even though they had been in the medical profession long enough to see many scars.
“Prepare another dose of sedative so we can calm him,” Dr. Carrington said, holding MacGyver down as he writhed, trying to calm and restrain him.
“Wait,” Dr. Ladd said, noticing that MacGyver’s eyes were moving, straining to open. “He’s waking up. Let me try to talk to him.”
MacGyver released another frightened scream and shot up in bed, resisting the hands that were on him, his brown eyes wide and darting around the room, bewildered. He gulped and gasped, his body shuddering and perspiring heavily. Immediately, Pete and Dr. Ladd rushed to his side, making sure to get in his field of vision so he would know where he was and he could reorient himself to the present where he wasn’t being harmed, where he was safe.
“MacGyver, can you hear me? MacGyver, look at me, please. It’s over. The nightmare is over, do you understand? It’s all right now. You’re back. You’re safe,” Dr. Ladd said.
“It’s okay Mac, I’m here,” Pete said softly. “You’re going to be all right.”
MacGyver’s terrified eyes moved back and forth between Pete and Dr. Ladd, recognition slowly returning to them. His breathing calmed, and he sighed deeply.
“That’s it, just relax,” Dr. Ladd said in soothing tones. “It’s over now.”
Moaning, MacGyver embraced Pete tightly, releasing a small sob.
“You’re going to be fine. It was just a nightmare,” Pete said, carefully pulling his shirt back down, closing the curtains on the gruesome sight of his vivid scars. He stroked his hair, feeling how tousled it was and dampened by sweat.
“Oh Pete, I’m glad you’re here, I’m glad it was just a dream,” MacGyver said. “This one was so real. It was worse than any I’ve ever had before. I felt like I was back there, being tortured…I couldn’t escape…I was in so much pain…I cried for help, but no one cared. No one would help me. I was left there to die. I was never getting out…no one was coming to rescue me…I couldn’t move…I was dying slowly…El Diablo was laughing at me…”
Pete carefully pulled away, looking at MacGyver. “Mac, you know I can’t understand you,” he said sadly, sighing, squeezing his trembling shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”
MacGyver creased his brow, momentarily confused. It took his mind a moment to gradually shift from the distant memories of one nightmare into the reality of a new one, remembering that still no one could understand him. He didn’t know what was worse—the nightmare or his inability to communicate his fears to anyone. Even though he was surrounded by competent, caring people intent on solving his puzzling condition, he once again felt alone, the isolating effects of being unable to speak coherently evident. He felt like a freak the past few days, being studied for scientific research while he felt fine, perfectly normal, his words still making sense to him.
“Are you going to be all right?” Dr. Ladd asked him.
All he could do was nod.
“Good,” the psychiatrist said, smiling warmly. “Remember, you’re back in the present now. It’s over. You’re safe.”
“Yeah, but you still can’t understand a word I’m saying,” MacGyver said.
Dr. Ladd and the others exchanged glances. “I don’t know what you just said,” he said to MacGyver, shaking his head sadly. “I won’t lie to you. We’re going to be honest, you and me, as we always have been throughout this relationship, all right? I won’t say this isn’t going to be a challenge, but I promise you that Dr. Carrington and I are working hard to find a cure for your current, troubling condition. I know it’s difficult, but you’re going to have to work with us and push hard, just as you did after being freed from your captivity. You have to be patient. We’ll find a way. I promise you that, even if the work is going to be hard. We will find a solution.”
“He’s right Mac,” Pete said, taking his hand and squeezing it firmly. “Don’t give up. We won’t.”
MacGyver nodded again. He looked around the room, at the faces of the people staring at him. As much as he needed their comforting words, not only to calm him after his disturbingly real nightmare but to reassure him that they would be able to understand him again, he also felt the need to be alone. He was tired of their attention, tired and overwhelmed. He wished he could tell them to leave, but he couldn’t even do that. There was simply no way to make himself understood, no matter how much he tried. Sighing, he hugged Pete again, clinging to the only thing that made sense in his new, strange world, the only thing that was solid and consistent—his best friend.
“It’s going to be all right,” Pete whispered.
As MacGyver held onto Pete, he saw the television was on in his room, and he watched it briefly, looking over Pete’s broad, rounded shoulder, trying to distract himself in any way possible. The news was on and the volume was low, but he recognized the man featured on the screen. He had a slim, medium build, thick dark hair, thick eyebrows, a hooked, beak-like nose, wore what appeared to be finely tailored silk suits, and had an olive, Mediterranean complexion. It was the Prime Minister of Italy, Giorgio Nucci. MacGyver stared at his image on the screen for awhile, as if transfixed. He couldn’t explain why he felt so drawn to the man on the screen. Somehow, something about him was important, beyond his eminent title. Brief flashes of memory interrupted the footage he saw on the television, images of two men talking. He didn’t know who they were and couldn’t hear what they were saying, but somehow he felt they were connected to the Prime Minister in some way. Something felt wrong. A sense of urgency filled him. Something was going to happen to the Prime Minister. He knew it, yet he didn’t know what it was or how he had been the recipient of such a premonition. Still, a deep sense of dread, unease, and foreboding filled him whenever he saw the Prime Minister on the screen, something he couldn’t explain. Pulling away from Pete, he gestured towards the TV, pointing at it.
“What is it?” Dr. Carrington asked.
“Turn it up, I have to hear this,” MacGyver said. “I don’t know why, but I have this feeling…I have to hear what they’re saying.”
“MacGyver, I know it’s hard, but you have to keep in mind that we still cannot understand you,” Dr. Ladd said, reminding him gently.
Rolling his eyes in frustration, MacGyver pointed at the TV again.
“I think he wants us to turn up the news,” Pete said.
MacGyver smiled at him and gave him a thumbs-up signal. “Yes! You’ve got it, Pete!” he said.
“All right, settle down, I’ll turn it up,” Pete said, listening to MacGyver’s frantic grunts and gibberish, still finding it hard to listen to him. He sounded more like an animal than a human being. “What is it, Mac? What could be so important?”
“Just wait,” MacGyver said, watching as Pete turned up the TV.
He shook his head in frustration, knowing that Pete missed the meaning of what he had just said, something as simple as those two words, and he still couldn’t understand. Sighing, MacGyver closed his mouth, giving up, reminding himself that no one could comprehend him but himself.
“The Prime Minister of Italy Giorgio Nucci arrived in California today, the first stop on his whirlwind tour of the United States that will end in New York for a speech at the United Nations,” the cheerful reporter said.
Pete watched the report as well. Turning back to MacGyver, he saw the concern in his dark eyes. “Would you excuse us for a moment, please?” He said to the others in the room.
“Of course,” Dr. Carrington said.
“We’ll leave you two alone to visit,” Dr. Ladd said. “This has undoubtedly been an exhausting day for both of you, and you need time to relax and rest.”
Pete watched them leave, waiting until they were completely out of the room. He turned back to MacGyver. “Now, I know this is going to be difficult, given you inability to speak properly at the moment, but try to tell me what’s going on. What was so significant about this report? Why did you need to see it so badly? Just…tell me, any way you can.”
MacGyver stared at him pleadingly, trying to think of a way to communicate, no matter now rudimentary.
“You know, Nikki is in charge of security for his California visit,” Pete said. “Does it have something to do with her?”
“Nikki…” MacGyver said, thinking back to their kiss. Since then, nothing about their relationship had been resolved. They still remained unsure, at times distant, other times warm towards each other, seemingly unable to commit to a long-term relationship, the greatest flaw that both of them shared. Flashes of the men talking along with Nucci’s face intruded upon his thoughts again. “I don’t know…something…what is it? Why do I keep seeing this? I don’t understand…”
He buried his face in his hands, rubbing it in frustration. Pete approached him, taking his hands. “Oh Mac, I know,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could just hear you the way I’m supposed to, but you don’t know how garbled you sound to me. Still, there has to be some way you can tell me what’s on your mind. Is the Prime Minister’s life at risk? Is that why you look so worried? Are you having one of your famous hunches?”
“Well, something isn’t right, that’s for sure,” MacGyver said, mainly to himself of course.
Pete stared at him, confused, not understanding. “Please,” Pete said. “Try for me. Try to tell me. I know you can do it. Just try…”
MacGyver stared down at his hands, getting an idea. “Maybe there is a way,” he said, smiling.
“What is it?” Pete asked. “I’ve seen that look before. You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?”
MacGyver began to move his hands, forming different words using sign language. His knowledge of the language was elementary at best, knowing only the most basic signs. Still, it was the only way he could think of to get through to Pete without talking, his words wasted and meaningless to anyone except him at that point. Pete watched him, a smile beginning to creep across his lips as well.
“I get it now!” He said. “You’re using sign language in an attempt to get through to me!”
MacGyver nodded.
“I
knew you’d figure something out! You always do! Let’s see here…uh…I have a deaf nephew, so I know some of it. Maybe I can…slow down, though. Yes, that’s good.”
MacGyver continued to sign.
“Need…you’re saying ‘need,’” Pete said, translating.
MacGyver nodded.
“This is incredible! You may not be able to speak or write correctly, but I can understand your sign language! We’ll have to tell the doctors!”
MacGyver shook his head. “Not yet Pete, this is important,” he said.
“I didn’t get what you said again, but you did shake your head. You’re right, that can wait. You obviously have something very important you’re trying to tell me. I’m sorry. Continue.”
MacGyver signed some more.
“Need…need what? Nikki? You…you need to see Nikki?”
MacGyver nodded.
“Why? You know she’s busy heading security for the Prime Minister’s visit.”
“That’s why I need to see her.”
“Sign it for me, Mac, please. You know I can’t understand you if you talk.”
MacGyver went back to signing, forming and shaping his long, elegant fingers into different meanings, curving and bending them.
“Bad…you’re saying ‘bad.’ What is it? What’s bad? Is something bad going to happen to the Prime Minister, is that what you’re trying to say?”
“I don’t know,” MacGyver said. “It’s just a feeling I get.” Closing his mouth again, he signed what he had just said as best as he could.
“Feeling…you have a feeling?”
MacGyver nodded.
“Well, your ‘feelings’ have been pretty accurate in the past,” Pete said. “I know you don’t believe in it, but sometimes you seem to have some kind of psychic ability, I swear, given the times you’ve been right…but how? How do you know this?”
“I don’t.” MacGyver signed what he had just said.
“Don’t…you don’t,” Pete said, interpreting his hand signals. “Well, that’s just terrific. You expect me to pull Nikki away from her responsibilities to come here and talk to you based on you intuition alone? You know she won’t be too happy. She’s under a lot of pressure right now, and I don’t think she’d appreciate it.”
“She’ll be happy to see me,” MacGyver said, smiling, once again remembering their kiss, one of the few pleasant memories he had over the past few years of torment and hell.
“What? MacGyver, remember to sign,” Pete said.
MacGyver grinned impishly. “Oh no, I’m not telling you that,” he said. “That’s a secret.”
For one moment, he actually enjoyed being able to speak whatever was on his mind without Pete being able to understand him. He hadn’t told him about Nikki yet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to, feeling a little uncertain and uncomfortable about it, given that they had to remain professional at work in front of him. If he saw them romantically involved…well, he might not know how to react. He’d probably be shocked, perhaps angry. No, MacGyver decided, he would tell Pete when he could be clearly understood again, and maybe not even then. He just wasn’t ready. Returning to Pete, knowing it was unfair to keep him in suspense for so long, terminating his little game of secrets, he signed again.
“Need…talk…you need to talk to her? But how?”
MacGyver waved his hands.
“Right, you’ll use sign language. I’ll interpret. But Mac, you don’t have any reliable information that the Prime Minister is going to be harmed. All you have is some vague feeling that something will go wrong with his visit here. How can you be sure that you’re right?”
MacGyver signed.
“Can’t….right, you can’t. That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t think it’s a wise idea to tell Nikki that when she’s already a nervous wreck trying to pull this off without any security breaches or problems. If you say anything to her, she’ll just get more upset.”
“She needs to know, Pete,” MacGyver said. “Any information at all could help her strengthen security and determine any weaknesses.”
He signed this as best as he could, although it came out more simplistic than what he said.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Pete said, sighing. “Any warnings should be heeded, even if there is no credible threat that we know of, just to be safe. I’ll tell you though, it’s going to be hard for her to see you this way. Able to talk, but not able to make any sense to anyone but yourself…I tell you, I don’t know how she’ll handle that on top of everything else she’s already dealing with to prepare for Nucci’s visit. It’s difficult to believe, such an unusual case…”
“I have to take that chance,” MacGyver said, worried about it as well. He hated seeing her upset. He signed again for Pete.
“Strong…yes, she is strong. You’re right about that. Well, I guess we have no choice. I respect you too much to ignore what you’re feeling about the Prime Minister’s visit. Even if it turns out to be nothing, she deserves to know in order to be prepared for all contingencies that could arise.”
MacGyver nodded.
“All right,” Pete said. “When I have a moment, I’ll see if I can make the necessary arrangements for her to take some time from her busy schedule to visit you.”
Thank you, MacGyver signed, the one perfect phrase he knew in sign language. He smiled at Pete, looking relieved.
You’re welcome, Pete signed back, also smiling, glad to have at last found a way to communicate once again with MacGyver. No matter how basic the form of communication was, it was still better than nothing, and a breakthrough.
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
And I doubt Pete would be angry that Mac and Nikkie be together. Shocked, most probably, but I don't think he would be angry with them. He loves them both as if they were his children so... LOL, I remember in the episode "Blow Out" (Season 3) Mac and Nikkie had another of their "friendly" discussions about Nikki being a professional and Mac making up stuff as he went when Pete kicked them both out of this office.
The intense emotions in this story are gonna kill me... but I'll die happily since is another great MacsChick's story 
They make such a cute couple together 
Perhaps... to cut me off of mac?? The "off of" thing together sounds weird. Any grammar guru reading this could please help dragonfly and me here?
