Special Forces Agent
Posts: 144
Joined: 23 May 2005
Gender: Female
Country: USA
SAK owned: A sharp one
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Season: season 3
Episode:Trail to Doomsday (Movie)
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket: Black leather
House: House boat
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Here's some more, folks. Let me know what you think.
Bander
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Pete pushed through the double doors at the back of the gymnasium and stepped into the hallway that connected it to the main building. Although the lights were dim, he could still make out a colorful assortment of the children’s artwork dotting the walls.
“MacGyver? Are you there?” He spotted a yellow line of light leaking out from beneath a door and headed for it, his shoes squeaking softly on the freshly waxed floors.
The door turned out to be a bathroom. Pete knocked softly before opening it and poking his head inside. “Mac?” He found the younger man seated on the floor with his knees drawn up and his forehead resting on his arms. “Mac?”
With obvious reluctance, MacGyver looked up, squinting painfully against the room’s harsh lighting. His face was still unusually pale, but it lacked the green tinge he’d had when he left the gym.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“You know me and crowds.”
Pete had learned early on about his friend’s aversion toward formal gatherings. They made him feel awkward and out of place, especially if he was required to wear the dreaded suit and tie. The younger man cleaned up surprisingly well, and such attire often elicited long, appreciative stares from the ladies in attendance. Although he handled himself well in these situations, Mac preferred to do his part of the pomp and circumstance from the safety and anonymity of the sidelines.
“I have a feeling there’s something more going on here,” Pete replied, kneeling down beside him. “Am I right?”
“I think the food was too rich. Plus the bright lights and the noise, my head…” He trailed off, a sheepish look crossing his face. “I’m sorry I ran out like that. I just didn’t want to lose it in front of all those people.”
“How’s your head now?”
“Still hurts.”
“You want to leave?”
Mac absently rubbed the aching spot behind his right temple. He’d wanted to leave since the moment they set foot in the loud, stuffy, and overly bright auditorium. The offer was tempting, but…“No -- I’ll be all right. Besides, I promised Lori I’d be here. I doubt she’d let me go without a fight.”
Pete smiled. Although he’d only dealt with Lori Hillenburg on the phone before the banquet, he had quickly learned that she was used to getting her way. Intelligent, confident, and loudly opinionated, the feisty middle-aged teacher knew exactly what she wanted for her students and refused to back down until she made it happen. It was this perseverance, along with MacGyver’s recommendations, that earned her the $10,000 grant from the Foundation. It also made her a very hard person to say ‘no’ to.
He checked his watch. “Listen, there’s still 20 minutes or so before the formalities start. Why don’t you step outside for a bit? It might help clear your head.”
“Worth a try, I guess,” Mac agreed, not at all eager to return to the gymnasium. He grasped the hand Pete held out and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. “Thanks.”
Pete made sure his friend had his balance before releasing the grip on his hand and opening the door. They stepped out into the darkened hall and headed for the back exit.
Mac stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed. “I suppose I owe Lori an explanation.”
“I’ll deal with Lori. I want you to just worry about yourself for right now.”
When they reached the backdoor, MacGyver pushed on the bump bar to release the latch. Cool night air and the sound of crickets floated into the hall.
“You going to be okay alone?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, stepping out into the moonlit night. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Pete watched from the doorway as the shadowy form of his friend disappeared into the darkness. Despite Mac’s reassurances that he was all right, he still couldn’t shake his growing sense of concern. MacGyver was a stubborn man, and extremely protective of his independence. Pete had to trust that he was being honest about how he felt, and not sacrificing himself to keep others happy.
He’s a grown man. I’m sure he’ll ask for help if he needs it… Pete thought, turning to make his way back to the auditorium. But a little friendly persuasion never hurt anyone…
*
MacGyver slowly made his way down the raked gravel path behind the school, enjoying the coolness of the night air. It was dark out on the back lot; the only light coming from the partial moon and flickering stars above. He stopped and gazed longingly up at the heavens. The school was far enough from the city that the bright lights had little effect on the night sky. He could just see the smudged, opaque arch of the Milky Way as it stretched from one horizon to the other. Such wondrous sights made him long for the days he’d spent as the caretaker for a local observatory.
Simpler times…
He drew in a deep breath of pine-tinged air and continued down the path, his shoes crunching on the fine stone. Pete’s suggestion to step outside had been a good one, the fresh air making him feel almost human again.
He still felt embarrassed about leaving in such a rush. It was the second time in two months he’d had to excuse himself due to his head, the first being a preliminary budget meeting he’d attended with Pete.
It’s gotta be stress… Mac thought idly. I’ve got too much on my plate. I need a break. And if it didn’t happen soon, he knew he’d be heading for burnout in a big way.
A dark patch in the middle of the trail pulled him from his thoughts. It looked like a grapefruit sized rock, probably misplaced by one of the kids earlier that day. He went to toe it off the path when it suddenly moved on its own. Startled, Mac watched it for a moment before realizing what it was.
“You look a little lost,” he muttered, crouching down to pick up the small, blocky turtle. Feeling threatened, the creature pulled itself into its shell and studied him intently with glassy eyes. Mac smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat you. How ‘bout a lift down to the water instead?” He turned off the path and began to cut across the field to the pond.
The pond project had turned out to be a fascinating and fulfilling project for both MacGyver and the students alike. Utilizing a natural spring, they designed, dug, and created a wetland habitat that looked like it had been there for years. As testament to their hard work, the pond began to flourish within weeks, attracting wildlife from all over the property. Birds, small mammals, and even deer visited the water to drink, while several varieties of fish, reptiles, and amphibians called the deep pool home.
“Here you go, little fella,” Mac said, gently placing the shelled creature down at the pond’s edge. Smelling the water, the turtle scrabbled across the soft sand and slipped soundlessly beneath the surface. “You’re welcome.”
He looked approvingly at the small piece of nature he helped create. It looked different at night, almost magical with the moon and stars reflecting off the surface. An occasional fish would jump at a fly, distorting the mirror-like image with rows of tiny ripples. Hidden somewhere in the reeds, a group of frogs croaked loudly, serenading potential mates with their baritone voices.
Mac glanced at his watch. It was almost eight o’clock – the reception would be starting soon. He reluctantly turned from the tranquility of the pond and began making his way back to the school.
He was about halfway there when a sharp pain flared across his skull, halting him in his tracks. Mac clutched his head and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to bring the intense pain under control. A powerful wave of dizziness struck, and he abruptly found himself on his knees in the tall grass.
What’s going on? His vision started to gray and a cold sweat dampened his clothes. He considered calling for help, but between the sheer distance and noise in the gymnasium, he knew he would never be heard.
He was going to pass out, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Fighting the inevitable for as long as he could, MacGyver felt himself falling backwards and than nothing at all. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
*
“MacGyver!”
“Mac!”
Two figures with flashlights came to a stop by one of the school’s weathered picnic tables and looked around.
“Are you sure he’s still out here, Peter?”
“He has to be,” he replied, swinging his flashlight around in a wide arch, searching the darkness for his friend. “Mac!”
“Why don’t you check the playground? I’ll keep looking out here,” Polly Andrews, the school nurse and Lori’s preverbal right hand, suggested.
Pete headed off toward the front of the building as quickly as his dress shoes would allow. He was worried. MacGyver was missing. The younger man had failed to return in time for the start of the presentation. He didn’t think much of it at first, assuming Mac had just lost track of time. But when he still hadn’t shown up fifteen minutes later, he knew there was something wrong. Polly, who had been present when he’d been talking to Lori about Mac’s abrupt exit, had graciously offered to help him search.
“Mac! Are you out here?” He stopped and listened, hearing only the lonely chirp of crickets. He sighed and moved on, panning his light across the wheelchair adapted swings and sand tables. It wasn’t like MacGyver to be late – at least to something as important as this. He looked inside the child-sized log cabin, finding its only occupant to be a red play ball. “Come on, Mac, where are you?”
“Peter! Over here!”
He turned at Polly’s shout and hurried back around the building, his feet slipping on the dewy grass. Using her light beam as a beacon, he made his way across the field to where the older woman knelt next to his friend.
“What happened?” he puffed, breathless from his impromptu burst of speed. “Is he all right?”
“He’s unconscious,” Polly replied, loosening Mac’s tie and collar. “He’s awfully cold. Give me your jacket.”
Pete stripped it off without hesitation and helped wrap it around his still friend’s form. “Mac? Can you hear me?”
Hearing a familiar voice, MacGyver groaned quietly, his eyes opening briefly.
“Come on, hon, you need to wake up,” Polly urged, patting his cheek.
Mac groaned again, his eyes opening long enough to focus on the face in front of him. “Polly…” He slurred her name, his mind working in slow motion.
“That’s right, Mac. Pete’s here too. Do you remember what happened?”
“I went to…there was a moving rock…I let it go…the pond…turtle…frogandfish…” His words jumbled together as he faded out again.
Pete frowned. “Should we call someone for him?”
“I don’t know yet,” Polly said, taking Mac by the chin and shining her light above his head. “Can you open your eyes for me, hon?” She got a fleeting look at his deep brown eyes before he slammed them closed again and clapped a hand across his face. She smiled. “Well, your pupil response may be slow, but your reflexes are just fine.”
“Do you think he’s okay?”
“Let’s give him a minute to wake up some more and see what happens.” Polly began to rub his arms briskly to warm him up. It was obvious he’d been down for some time as ground’s chill had transferred through his clothes.
MacGyver slowly began to come around, his awareness improving as his hazy mind cleared. He still had a headache, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. It took a few minutes for him to realize he was still outside, the smell of fresh grass and pine heavy in the air. He was cold and stiff, signs that he’d been there for some time. As to how he got there…
He sighed and moved his hand away from his face. Both Pete and Polly were kneeling beside him, watching with deeply concerned expressions. He met Pete’s gaze first. “Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey to you,” Pete replied, relief starting to replace some of the concern. “How’re you feeling?”
“Kinda tired. A little chilly.”
“Can you sit up?” Polly asked, knowing the sooner they could get him off the cold ground, the better.
“Sure.” Still not completely with it, they had him sitting even before he could muster enough energy to help.
Pete repositioned his jacket around the younger man’s shoulders. “So, what happened?”
“I don’t know,” Mac replied, wearily scrubbing a hand across his face. “I found a turtle on the path and took it down to the pond to let it go. My head starting hurting again and I got lightheaded on my way back to the gym, but after that…” He paused for a moment, drawing a blank. “Next thing I know, I hear you both calling my name.”
“When you didn’t show up for the start of the presentation, we came looking,” Pete explained. “That’s when we found you out here unconscious.”
“Do you still feel dizzy?” Polly asked, continuing when he shook his head. “Think you can stand?”
“Yeah.” Mac drew his legs up and stood with help, his two friends supporting him until he found his balance. He took a few experimental steps, his knees wobbling less each time.
“You good to go?” Pete inquired, a firm grip on his arm.
He nodded, already feeling better for being off the hard ground. “I think so.”
With Mac setting the pace, the small group slowly made their way back toward the school. He still felt off, but he suspected it had to do with the after affects of his fainting spell. What a mess this has turned out to be…
“I have a place in my office you can lay down if you’d like,” Polly offered as they made their way up the ramp at the back of the school.
“Nah, that’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Well I’m calling my driver then. He can take you home and than come back for me,” Pete said
“No, Pete, I’m fine, really,” Mac insisted, starting to feel like a broken record. They’d reached the back door and stopped. “I’d rather not get up on stage, though, if that’s all right.”
Polly nodded. “I think we can arrange that. Would you like a seat at the back in case you need to step out again?”
“Please.”
“All right. Just give me a minute to make arrangements and then come on in when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you by the side door.” She gave Mac’s arm a small squeeze and disappeared into the school.
“She’s a good person,” Pete remarked, having noticed her fondness for the young troubleshooter.
MacGyver nodded, realizing for the first time he had his friend’s jacket around his shoulders. He shrugged it off and handed it back before setting to work buttoning his collar and re-knotting his tie.
“I still don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about staying. If you don’t feel well, they can’t expect you to…”
“I made a promise to be here,” he interrupted, not in the mood to justify his actions. “It’s important, and it’s something I want to do for Lori and the kids. Especially the kids.” He stopped when he saw the scolded expression on Pete’s face. Way to make him ‘feel the love,’ Mac…
He sighed and rubbed his aching forehead. “I’m sorry, Pete. I know you’re concerned and I really, really appreciate it, but I’m all right. I’m just tired and a little overwhelmed right now. And I’m sure you are too with all that’s going on at the Foundation. We just handle it differently.”
“I know I’ve been nagging you a lot lately, and it’s probably been too much. But I don’t like to see the people I care about hurting, and whether you admit it or not, you are hurting,” Pete said frankly. “I just want you take care of yourself and not suffer for the sake of someone else. If you need a break, take it. Promises or not, if they truly know you for you, than they’ll know you’re not just blowing them off.”
Mac looked down at his feet, his shoes damp from the grass. Pete was right, but he was a man of his word. Breaking a promise didn’t come easy – even if it could be justified.
“You ready to do this?”
“Yeah,” he said, opening the door. “And thanks.”
“For what?”
“Caring. Listening. Everything.”
Pete reached out and plucked a few blades of grass from MacGyver’s sleeve. “You bet.”
Mac smiled and motioned his boss through the door. Breathing in a final deep breath of the cool night air, he stepped into the building and headed for the gym. He had a promise to keep.
 "What's a "MacGyver" and why does it have a convention?" ~ Bart Simpson
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