His muscles are in knots. They're looping and tangling and tightening to the point where his breaths come in tiny gasps because it hurts. It hurts so bad. His whole body is taut with pain. He wishes he never locked himself in that room in the first place. Better yet, he wishes they never made VX nerve gas in the first place.
As the muscle spasms abate slowly, he tries to take a deep breath, tries to center himself. His eyes slowly open revealing a white ceiling. He hears the heart monitor beep beep beeping, the sound of footsteps milling about behind the curtain surrounding his bed. But, above all else, he hears the snores of one Jack Dalton who is currently passed out in the chair next to his bed with his head tipped to one shoulder. Mac doesn't envy the pain his partner will be in when he wakes up.
Then again, he'd take I-slept-wrong-and-now-I'm-paying-the-price pain over I-exposed-myself-to-a-deadly-nerve-gas shit any day of the week. He especially knows this when he feels his quad muscles bunch up in his stab wound riddled leg.
He can't quite keep the gasp of pain in and feels bad when he sees Jack startle awake before he slams his eyes shut and grips the sheets between his fingers.
"Hey, hey. Easy," he hears Jack say. "Breathe, bud. I know it hurts, but you gotta breathe."
Mac tries, he really does, but it seems like forever before his muscles release and he can't seem to catch his breath. His lungs feel like they're seizing in his chest. He coughs and then wheezes. His eyes fly open as panic takes a hold of him. He makes to sit up, to get out of the bed, but he feels a pair of strong hands settle gently on his shoulders and finds himself sinking back into his pillows.
His hand reaches up to the collar of his hospital gown thinking maybe that's what's wrong, that the fabric is responsible for his shortness of breath and not nerve gas and pain and panic.
He's still panting when he feels something hard and plastic come down on his mouth and nose. His hand travels from his collar to the plastic inspecting the new device until Jack pulls his hand away. He never does let go.
Mac feels the oxygen make its way to starved lungs. He blinks open his eyes and sees Jack's concerned face. A nurse is on the other side of his bed fiddling with his IV. He goes limp with relief when something cool climbs up his veins and he can breathe again.
"There ya go bud. Nice and easy," Jack soothes.
Mac blinks against his fatigue and squeezes Jack's hand. The monitor next to his bed is finally blinking at a more normal pace, but Jack seems unconvinced, worried and is looking at Mac with a pinched expression.
"Whass'wrong?" Mac slurs. His eyes droop a little more, but now he's worried about Jack. "Are you'kay?"
Jack scoffs at that. "I'm fine, kid. You're an idiot is what's wrong, but we already knew that."
Mac can only blink woozily at that.
"Get some rest Agent Macgyver," the nurse says and then leaves them alone behind the curtain.
Mac licks his lips and opens his mouth to try and respond, but Jack beats him to it.
"I know what you're going to say. You're going to say something like 'It's all part of the job' or 'occupational hazard.' But, dude, there had to have been another way instead of exposing yourself to nerve gas and stabbin' yourself in the leg. God damn it, I watched you stab yourself and I couldn't do nothin'. You were screaming and in pain and all I could do was sit and watch." Jack's breathing speeds up and Mac could see unshed tears in his eyes.
"This was too close," Jack chokes out. "Way too close."
Mac wanted to say so much more. He wanted to tell Jack that there wasn't another way around it. That he'd acted because if he hadn't, everyone would be dead. All that came out though was an apology.
"M'sorry," Mac manages to say around the lump in his throat.
Jack huffs and then seems to center himself.
"I know, bud, I know. It isn't your fault. Well, not all of it anyway."
Mac manages a weak smile when he hears Jack's mirth. He reaches up and pulls the mask down.
There was a moment of silence between the two agents.
"I was scared."
"Me too." Mac lets out a pent up breath. "But I'm fine now… or will be," he added quickly when Jack shot him a look.
The older man uses his free hand to pick up the oxygen mask and place it back to the blonde's mouth.
"Yeah, you will be. Now leave this on and get some rest before the nurses kick me out for keepin' you awake."
Mac hums and closes his eyes, his breaths coming easier.
"I love you, ya idiot."
"…you too," Mac mumbles and drifts off to sleep.