Okay, so this didn't turn out to be my longest story (When He Wakes still beats it by one chapter). Still, it was complex and difficult to write because I was experimenting with something new. Anyway, this is the last part, and I hope you enjoy it! Rest assured another story is coming soon!
Accusations Part Thirteen
Rated: PG (Conclusion)
“Pavulon was found in his system,” the doctor said, holding a private conference with Pete once the tumult and chaos surrounding the fight the save MacGyver’s life had subsided and he was once again stabilized.
“What’s that?” Pete asked.
“It’s a muscle relaxant, sometimes used in anesthesia. High enough doses cause complete paralysis of the body, including suspension of respiration. It’s also a commonly used drug during lethal injection.”
Pete remembered MacGyver had recounted with horrific detail how he was put to death by lethal injection in his hallucination, sentenced to die for another man’s brutal, violent crime. Now, it appeared he had come close to actually succumbing to the same fate, only this time it wasn’t a product of his drugged mind, and he almost didn’t survive. Whoever the suspect was, he was determined that MacGyver should suffer. The question remained why.
“Is he all right?” He asked.
The doctor sighed. “He’s stable for the moment, and it appears he will recover, albeit slowly,” he said. “Fortunately he was already hospitalized so we were able to quickly administer treatment to counter the effects of the drug. We’ll have to continue to closely monitor his progress and see if any complications arise.”
“Can I see him now?”
“Of course.”
***
Several days later…
The images continued to shift in MacGyver’s mind, from the sallow-faced man wearing the wigs and robes of the Puritan era to a man with a similar complexion and appearance wearing a modern white lab coat. He struggled to make sense of what he was seeing, trying to make the connection somehow between the two men and their significance… “Thomas,” he whispered, stirring, his face creased in a frown.
“MacGyver?” Pete asked, watching him, surprised to see a response from him after days of only brief periods of consciousness.
“Thomas,” MacGyver said again, his movements becoming more agitated.
“Easy, settle down,” Pete said, trying to hold him and get him to cease his violent motions. “It’s all right. Take it easy. Can you hear me? Mac?”
MacGyver’s eyes opened and he became fully aware, staring at Pete. “It was Thomas,” he said, reaching out and gripping Pete’s arm with strength he didn’t know he had in his weakened state.
“What are you talking about?” Pete asked, concerned. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Pete,” MacGyver said. “I remember everything. It’s as if my mind has suddenly become clear. It was Thomas who did this. It was him all along. He’s the suspect. He’s the one who did this to me. I…I recognized him, but at the time I just couldn’t quite make the connection. It’s been so long…”
“Well, Thomas is the name of the suspect, but I’m not sure I understand—
“A few years ago, I was assigned to evaluate several scientists employed by The Phoenix Foundation.”
“I remember that.”
“Right. Well, I discovered that not only was Thomas plagiarizing lab reports, the methods he used for obtaining his results were unethical. I saw the potential danger in his recklessness and recommended that he not be re-assigned. He was obviously resentful of what I had done, so he sought revenge.”
“But to take it so far, to be so elaborate and involve innocent life…”
“Thomas doesn’t care about others, only in his self-preservation. His career in science was everything to him, gave him a sense of power and importance. After all, he was one of our most senior, elite, and brilliant scientists on the team. He would never get any satisfaction out of simply killing me—he had to use his knowledge against me, make it an experiment to see how far he could extend my suffering, a game almost.”
“A sick game,” Pete said, taking MacGyver’s hand in his, squeezing it, tears in his eyes. “He almost succeeded, and he’s still out there. How did you make the connection?”
“Ever since this happened to me, I’ve had time to revisit the hallucinations I experienced, trying to make sense and order of them,” MacGyver said. “I began to realize there was a common theme with them that fit closely with my reality—I was falsely accused of a crime, and there was one person in both situations that made sure I would be condemned for the monstrous deeds—Thomas. He was a greater presence when I thought I was back in the witch trial period, grandstanding theatrically in front of the other magistrates, but he was also in the modern dream as well, slinking away into the darkness, leaving me alone with the victim, making sure I would take the blame.”
“Incredible,” Pete said. “So even though you were under the influence of a powerful drug that altered your state of mind, a part of you could still process what was happening through these dream-like sequences you experienced.”
“It appears that way.”
“I’m going to have to call the police and provide them with this information,” Pete said. “It might help them with their investigation into his background, since he was uncooperative when he was in custody. It will also give them a motive.”
MacGyver smiled faintly at him, still looking a little wan, worn from his recent nightmarish experiences.
“I forgot to ask you how you’re feeling,” Pete said, deep concern in his voice. “You still look a little wearied.”
“I’m fine, considering the circumstances,” MacGyver said. “What did the doctor say?”
“That you’re making progress and should be released soon.” Pete sighed. “I just hope they can find this guy before something else happens to you.”
“Mr. Thornton, you have a phone call,” a nurse said, peeking in the doorway.
“Thank you,” Pete said. The nurse nodded politely and left. He turned to MacGyver. “I’d better take this,” he said. “I’ve made sure that this time no one enters your room without my express permission. Will you be all right?”
MacGyver smiled again. “I’ll be fine, Pete,” he said. “Just go take the call.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
True to his word, Pete was back, and only within minutes. He entered MacGyver’s room with a flushed face and an excited look in his eyes. Without saying a word, he quickly turned on the television in the hospital room, fiddling with the dial, making sure it was tuned in to the news station. MacGyver watched his hurried, frantic movements with concern.
“What is it?” He asked.
“Thomas has been caught!” Pete shouted. “I almost didn’t believe it, but the police confirmed it to me over the phone! He’s back in custody where he belongs!”
MacGyver sat up in bed, still feeling a little woozy from the aftereffects of all the drugs that had been in his system. Both men stared at the screen in rapt attention, listening to the full report. Thomas was being led away to a squad car under intense, heavy guard, wearing the full set of shackles that had once encircled MacGyver’s wrists and ankles in his dream. He wasn’t dressed in clothing from the Puritan era, but he was still recognizable with his yellowish complexion and tall, spindly frame, deceptively weak and ill-looking but actually quite physically powerful.
“It’s over,” Pete said, almost laughing in relief. “I can’t believe it. There’s no way he will escape now. He’ll never do you any harm again.”
“I still wonder if it was real,” MacGyver said.
Pete looked at him, noticing a pensive, reflective expression on his face. “What do you mean?” He asked. “It was real. You just went through a terrible experience.”
“I know that, I’m just talking about…well…oh, forget it,” MacGyver said, turning away, a bashful, embarrassed smile on his face.
“No, now come on, don’t do that. What do you mean?”
MacGyver sighed. “It’s just…everything I experienced in that other time seemed so real, you know?” He said.
Pete raised his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you actually think you traveled back in time now,” he said. “MacGyver, that was a hallucination brought on by the drug Thomas gave you.”
“I know it was, and it was all related to what ultimately happened, but still…what if I was back in that time, what if Thomas has been pursuing me through the ages, and we’ve always known each other…” He smiled sheepishly again. “It sounds absurd, I know,” he said. “I guess I’m not talking about reincarnation so much as genetic memory. What if I was reliving something my ancestor went through? What if this was all leading up to something?”
“That’s an interesting thought to ponder, but I don’t think there is any scientific evidence to back you up unless you do a genealogical survey of your family,” Pete said.
“Then maybe I should do a complete family history,” MacGyver said. “It could be worth the time.”
“You know, I’ve never seen you so interested in the past before this happened,” Pete said.
“Well, I’ve learned that if you don’t know your past or you ignore it, it can come back to haunt you,” MacGyver said, looking at Thomas’s image on the TV screen. “I never thought I would see him again, and I forgot about him, but he didn’t forget, and I suffered the consequences.”
“You can’t always prepare or predict what will happen,” Pete said. “You didn’t know he would come after you. You couldn’t anticipate his next move.”
“No, but I knew he was dangerous even then, and I did nothing.”
Pete reached out and placed his hand on MacGyver’s shoulder. “Forget about it, okay?” He said. “It’s over.”
MacGyver continued to watch the news coverage, knowing and reassured that it was indeed over. The right man was at last being brought to justice and all suspicion had been removed from his name. He was a prisoner no longer.
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
