Well, it's time for me to wrap this one up, but I do have another story I will be posting later, probably tomorrow. I realize now that the R rating was a little unnecessary and excessive, but originally I was going to have Murdoc kill off the D.B. character in some gruesome, graphic way.

I'm glad I decided to go in a different direction and make a different choice. I like the character of D.B., and I just couldn't kill him.

Besides, Murdoc is more interested in killing Mac, so why waste his time on anyone else?
This final chapter also further describes and defines a fugue state (what Mac suffered from) in a little more detail, so that hopefully readers can understand fully what happened to our hero and his thought processes during the time of his strange disappearance and his encounters with Murdoc.
So anyway, after that long introduction, I hope you enjoy the rest of this story! Thank you again for your support and feedback!
Wandering Blind Part Seven
Rated: R (Conclusion/Epilogue)
“You know, I will say that if I had to live in the city, I would prefer to live on a houseboat like this one so I could feel removed from it,” D.B. said, flopping into a chair that creaked and shook in protest under his bulk. “This place is nice.”
“Thanks,” MacGyver said, handing him and Pete a mug of coffee, making tea for himself, at last feeling at peace and at home, where he belonged.
The three men congregated in the comfortable living room of the houseboat. It had been several weeks since Murdoc made his last attempt on MacGyver’s life. Since then, the damage to MacGyver’s upstairs bedroom had been repaired, erasing all evidence that the violent struggle between them had ever occurred. They had waited tensely for weeks, on their guard and prepared for his next attack, yet nothing happened. It was as if he had truly vanished this time. Not a single trace of him could be found anywhere, as if he had never existed except as a figment of their wild imaginations.
“Roger is out looking for more clues in the investigation of Murdoc’s disappearance, but so far he and his men have been unable to find anything,” Pete said, cradling the warm mug in his hands, a look of deep concern furrowing his brow.
“That doesn’t surprise me by now,” MacGyver said, staring blankly at the jagged lines of the Southwestern pattern woven into his rug. “It’s almost to be expected with him.”
“Well, at least now you know that when he does come back, you can handle him,” D.B. said. “You have the support of your friends, but you’re also capable of defending yourself against him. You’re stronger than you think, and you can survive. Even when you weren’t quite sure of who you were, you weren’t prepared to let him destroy you. He won’t be able to take you without quite a fight.”
“I just wish he didn’t have to fight him at all,” Pete said, sighing, placing the steaming mug of coffee on the coffee table, watching MacGyver carefully. “The specter of Murdoc has been haunting him for years, and at last it took its toll on him when he suffered from the fugue episode. The disturbing memories and nightmares simply became too much for him.”
“Yeah…you know, I’m still not sure I get what happened to him,” D.B. said, sipping on his black coffee. “How could he just wander off without knowing where he was going and forget who he was for awhile?”
Pete shrugged. “That’s what happens when a person enters a fugue state,” Pete said. “The symptoms include a desire to wander from home, confusion, a forgetfulness of identity, and assuming a new identity for a brief period of time.”
“But how? Why?”
“It’s not easy to understand or explain. Dr. Harris, the doctor who treated him when he was found, told me it’s a complex mental process. It’s as if the brain is trying to protect a person suffering from traumatic memories by allowing them to forget, at least temporarily. Some stressful person or event usually triggers it, in this case Murdoc’s reappearance in the form of nightmares.”
“Unfortunately even forgetting wouldn’t allow him to escape this guy,” D.B. said. “After encountering him myself, I could see why poor Handy would want to forget all about him. What if it happens again? I mean, what if this Murdoc fella once again shows up and makes his life so unbearable that he wanders off again and places himself in more danger?”
“The possibility of another fugue is exceedingly rare, although not unheard of,” Pete said. “We’ll just have to hope it never happens to him again, placing him in another vulnerable position.”
“I’m just glad you found me,” MacGyver said, speaking at last after a long rumination, staring at D.B. with his dark, intense eyes. “I can never thank you enough for what you did for me. I didn’t know who I was and you protected me, gave me shelter. I just wish I could remember getting to know you, becoming your friend…now, all of that is lost, irretrievable. The doctor says I will never get those lost memories of that time back. I can never know all that you did for me, except from what you tell me. I just…wish I could share that experience with you. Instead, it sounds like some distant story involving someone else, someone other than me, in some other time.”
D.B. reached over and squeezed MacGyver’s shoulder with his broad, meaty hand, smiling. “Well, I’m still in your life,” he said. “I haven’t gone anywhere. You can get to know me all over again. It’s like you said before…just because you don’t remember me doesn’t mean we can start over and still be friends. Even if you don’t remember, I do, and I’m not liable to forget. I’ll always be around for you, Handy, don’t worry about that.”
MacGyver smiled and reached over, clasping D.B.’s hand. “I appreciate that,” he said.
Pete smiled at the heartwarming scene, grateful once again that this man had taken such good care of MacGyver. “We’ll be ready for Murdoc the next time he comes,” he said. “I’m sure of it. MacGyver is stronger because he has the support of good friends like you, people who are unafraid to challenge him. He’s not likely to forget that and will probably exercise more caution next time and not be as bold. We delivered him a massive blow, one which will probably take time for him to recover. He works alone, has no one. One man going up against several is always at a disadvantage, even with someone as clever and elusive as Murdoc.”
“That’s right,” D.B. said, smiling at MacGyver. “He won’t want to mess with us, but if he does come back, we’ll be ready for him this time.”
MacGyver smiled faintly and stared once again at the zigzag patterns in his rug, hoping they were right. Another part of him knew they could never be as certain and confident as they hoped. Murdoc was unpredictable. What he would do next was beyond any of their guesses. Still, he was glad he did have the support of friends who understood what he had been through, that could help and protect him when he needed it. For now, it was over, and he could relax, comfortable in his own home and secure in his identity once again.
***
Murdoc watched the houseboat rock gently in the water, shuddering slightly when he looked up at the second storey bedroom window. The shattered glass had been replaced, but he would never forget his sickening drop to the water below, the water dragging him under, darkness closing in around him, blood leaking profusely from his wound, queasiness and pain and shock overwhelming him, threatening to end his life. The only thing that sustained him, the only thing that always preserved his life, was thoughts of MacGyver’s eventual demise at his hands. He was determined that he should outlive his opponent, that he would die only after MacGyver did, at last content and satisfied that his job was completed. He knew he had been close the last time. He could feel MacGyver’s body go limp beneath him as he pressed tightly on his neck. He knew it was possible to kill him, that he wasn’t invincible or immortal. These thoughts made him more bloodthirsty, but also more cautious. He would wait. He would be patient until the perfect opportunity to strike once again presented itself. Realizing it was a foolish mistake to underestimate his target, even when he was at his most vulnerable, he knew he would have to come up with some other plan, some other strategy that would guarantee him success. All it would require now was time and careful planning, but he knew he could wait. He wasn’t going anywhere, not as long as MacGyver remained alive.
“Soon MacGyver…very soon,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I’ll come back, but this time, I’ll be ready…”
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