**Author's note: Yes, this is a rather weird little fic. Is the concept I'm presenting really possible, even with quantum physics? Maybe…? Who knows? Does anyone really understand quantum physics? If someone out there does understand and knows that this is total BS, just play along… It's all just good, clean fun.
Oh, and standard disclaimer: Not my characters, not my TV show. I'm just borrowing them for a little bit.
12/31/17
REALITY IS OVERRATED
The ER waiting room of the hospital was crowded and noisy. The woman sitting next to us held a crying baby, which she patted absently on the back while staring blankly into space. She had the haunted look of someone about to face a firing squad. I don't know how long she'd been waiting, but she was already here when we arrived. Bozer, Riley, Cage and I had been waiting for news about Jack for around twenty minutes when a doctor stepped through the swinging doors.
"Mrs. Mason?" she called out.
The woman beside me looked up, her face plainly revealing every conflicting emotion as it skittered across her features, hope, anger, but fear most of all. She stood and went to the doctor. I couldn't hear just what the doctor said, but it was obviously bad news, because Mrs. Mason let out a desperate wail and nearly collapsed, baby and all. The doctor tried to hold the other woman up, but Mrs. Mason was a big woman and the doctor was quite petite. Bozer and I quickly moved to assist. We managed to get Mrs. Mason and her baby safely seated, while a hospital social worker moved in to help the grieving woman.
"Thank you," the doctor said to us, as she led us away from Mrs. Mason, to give her privacy. "It's always so tough to tell a young woman that her husband is dead, especially when there's a young child… Uh, anyway, who are you two waiting on?"
"Jack Dalton," I said. "He was brought in with a head injury."
"Oh, yes, he's with Dr. Chodra. He's a good doctor. Your friend is in good hands. Thank you again, gentlemen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have… paperwork."
As the doctor turned to disappear back beyond the swinging doors again, I thought she looked shaken up herself. Yeah, my job is pretty stressful, and often lives are dependent on my actions, my included, but to have someone's life, right there, literally, in your hands… No, I don't think I could handle being a doctor. That one time in Malaysia, performing impromptu surgery on that putz, Ralph, had been more than enough for me. Bozer and I returned to our seats with the women and continued our vigil.
As we waited, my mind drifted back to the mission. It was supposed to be a simple one, a dead drop. We didn't even have to leave the city. Jack and I were just going to pick up the information and return to the Phoenix. We'd found the drop site easily enough and retrieved the flash drive, but that's when things went sideways. The drop had been a setup, meant to lure us into a trap.
Long story short, during the ensuing fistfight, Jack was knocked down and his head hit the pavement. And as Mattie once pointed out, Jack's been blown up, a lot. Concussions can have a cumulative effect, each successive one leaving more damage behind than the last. Jack was still unconscious when he arrived at the hospital. That was a half hour ago.
Seeing the swinging doors open again, I looked up to see a young Indian man in scrubs. He appeared to be only few years older than me. I stood as he moved toward our group. I glanced over and saw the others get to their feet as well. I noticed that Riley was tightly gripping Bozer's hand.
"Mr. MacGyver?" the doctor asked as he approached.
"Yes, sir, how's Jack?" I asked.
"Well, there's some intracranial swelling of the brain, although I didn't see any indication of any bleeding, which is a good thing."
"But is he going to be okay?" Riley asked.
"For now, he's comatose. We'll just have to wait for the swelling to go down."
"And how long is that going to take?"
"It'll take as long as it takes. For now, let's just wait and see."
"Can we see him?" I asked.
"Soon. We're getting him settled into his room."
I sat wrapped in Jack's football Snuggie. Bozer, Riley, Cage and I had been passing it off to each other as we took turns sitting with Jack. It had been two days and, so far, he'd shown no sign of regaining consciousness. The doctor didn't seem too concerned by this, but I was starting to get worried. What was I going to do if Jack didn't wake up soon? I refused to even contemplate the idea that he might not wake up at all. So far, Mattie had been cool about not sending any of us out on any missions, but that couldn't last, particularly since Dr. Chodra couldn't give us any kind of estimate as to when Jack might wake up.
I felt so helpless, a feeling I wasn't accustomed to and wasn't handling well. I needed to do something. I needed to fix Jack. That's what I do, after all, isn't it? I fix things, I improvise. No, I wasn't a doctor, but wasn't the human body just a machine? Admittedly, a very complex one, but a machine all the same. So, shouldn't I be able to fix him? Okay, yeah, that was kind of arrogant of me, wasn't it? I mean, if the doctors couldn't fix him, why should I be able to? But that's also what I do, I think outside the box. So, maybe if I came at Jack's injury from a different angle…
Recently I'd been reading a lot of stuff about quantum physics and quantum mechanics and it's some really fascinating, freaky shit. Some of it is about as close to magic as I can imagine. In fact, many of the things that had previously been labeled "supernatural" could be explained through quantum physics. Now, sure, most of that stuff is still just theoretical, but there were definitely some intriguing possibilities there. I just need to figure out how to tap into those possibilities.
Now, it was a proven phenomenon that people in the hospital had a much higher chance of recovering if they had others praying for them or even just mentally sending them "good" thoughts, even if the patient was completely unaware of these efforts on their behalf. It was theorized that something about all that collective positive energy directed at one goal could actually have a physical affect, which also brought up some intriguing possibilities.
And, yes, I could almost hear Jack's voice in my head, telling me, "You read too much, Hoss. You need to get your nose outta those books and start livin' in the real world."
And maybe he was right. I needed to take some of these theories and put them through a practical, real world test. Before I joined the Department of External Services (AKA Phoenix Foundation), I was required to undergo SERE training. This is the same training that Jack had to undergo for the Deltas. For those who don't know, SERE stands for Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape and it makes the training Bozer went through look like a cake walk.
One of the things they taught us was self-hypnosis. This was a useful technique for resisting interrogation, even, shall we say, vigorous, physical interrogation. It was sort of an extreme form of "going to your happy place". I had to wonder if Jack was in his happy place right now and could I, maybe, find him there and bring him back…?
Okay, I know, I'm getting a little metaphysical here, but as I already said, quantum physics and metaphysics are kind of kissing cousins. Jack would probably call this Jedi Mind Tricks. But I'm more of a Star Trek fan, the science is much more accurate. So, I prefer to think of this as a Vulcan Mind Meld.
I settled myself as comfortably on the vinyl padded hospital chair as I could and closed my eyes. An EKG machine was monitoring Jack's heart rate and I concentrated on that beeping sound, letting everything else fall away. The only thing I was aware of was the sound of Jack's steady heart rate, which gradually became synchronized with mine…
I opened my eyes and found myself sitting on the steps to the front porch of our old house in Mission City. It was right around dusk. The sun had just set and the fireflies were starting to come out. I glanced down and saw that my hands, my body, looked so small. I was wearing baggy shorts and worn, green, hi-top sneakers. I realized that I was a child again. And with this realization, I became aware of soft voices behind me, a man and a woman.
Slowly, I turned around and looked behind me at the porch swing. Mom and Dad were sitting on the swing, as they had done so often. They were holding hands and their heads were bent close together as they talked quietly. Mom looked so healthy and happy.
Yes, this was my happy place, that all too brief period of my childhood when everything was right in my world. Back when I was just a normal kid, before I became that weird kid with the dead mom and the absentee dad, who lived with his grandfather. Back when I was just… Angus.
Mom noticed my stare and I must have had a goofy grin on my face, because she asked, "What are you smiling about, Monkey?"
Remembering that this little trip wasn't for me, but for Jack, I said, "Uh, I just remembered that there are still some cookies left over from dessert. Can I get one?"
"Yes, you may. Can you reach them yourself or do you need some help?"
"No, thank you, I can get to them."
"Of course, you can," she said and I heard a hint of ruefulness in her tone.
Standing, I walked to the front door. It was open. Only the screen door was closed. Before I opened that and headed inside, I turned to look back at my parents one last time. I had almost forgotten how beautiful my mother was and how happy my dad looked when he was with her. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I opened the screen door and stepped…
…into a desert… What the…? Looking around, I saw strange dome-shaped buildings and weird creatures walking around. Overhead two suns shone from a brilliant sky… Oh, my God, I'm on Tatooine. This is Jack's happy place. I was expecting Texas, a beach filled with scantily clad women, but… Star Wars? Really?
Upon further reflection, I realized that, no, this was perfectly… Jack. So, assuming that Jack will be playing the role of the dashing Han Solo, I should be able to find him in the cantina. I glanced down at myself and saw that I was now wearing a dusty white gi top and white pants. Of course, Jack sees me as Luke Skywalker, daddy issues and all. I sighed and headed toward the building where most of the people seemed to be going.
I stepped into the smoky gloom of the cantina and, yes, it looked just as George Lucas envisioned it in the original movie, the strange creatures, the goofy music, everything. If Jack really was playing the part of Solo, he'd be at the back of the building. I walked around the central bar area and, sure enough, there was Jack, in complete Han Solo mode, cream-colored shirt, black vest, blue pants and tall black boots. And there was Chewie sitting across from him. But who was that sitting with them? This was a departure from the movie.
As I moved closer to their booth, I saw that it was Sarah, in Princess Leia garb, the long, white dress and her dark hair done up in that iconic double-bun hairstyle. Well, I'll give Jack some points for class for not envisioning her in the slave-girl costume. I stepped up to the table. Jack turned to me and broke into a wide grin.
"Mac, you're here! Sit down, have a drink with us," he said.
I glanced down at the toxic yellow-looking drinks on the table in front of them and decided that I'd pass. "No, thanks," I said. "Look, Jack, we gotta go."
"What? Why? Look at this place. Isn't it great! Let's just hang here for a while. It'll be fun."
"Yeah, it's great, but we can't stay here, you know that."
"Do I? I mean, come on, no one's trying to kill us… We can do whatever we want… I'm havin' the time of my life."
I sighed. Yeah, I knew where he was coming from, but I couldn't let him stay. "Yeah, I know," I said, "but we've got to get back to work. You remember work don't you… Phoenix Foundation…?"
"Yeah, I remember, guys shootin' at us, tryin' to blow us up… And don't even get me started on Murdoc's twisted ass. Naw, I think I'll stay here."
"Jack, you can't."
"Why do you always have to be such a buzz kill? You are, like, half my age and yet you have no idea how to have fun. Lighten up, Boy, live a little. Not everything is life or death."
"No, you're right," I said, "but this is."
"Oh, pfff," he noised with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Please, Jack…"
"Oh, you are so cute when you look all earnest like that," he said and gave my cheek a painful pinch. "Look, Man, if you're gonna be such a pain in the ass, then I'm just gonna go somewhere else."
He stood from the booth and turned back to Sarah, extending his hand. "Would M'Lady care to join me?" he asked in a gallant tone.
And since she was a product of Jack's imagination, she of course, agreed. She held out her hand to him and said, "Why, yes, she would."
He took her hand and helped her from the booth. Slipping his arm around her waist, he began leading her toward another door at the back of the bar.
"Hey, wait," I called. "Where are you going?"
"Like I said, somewhere else," he called back to me over his shoulder.
With a groan, I followed after them. I was beginning to feel like I was dealing with a recalcitrant toddler. Following them through the doorway, we stepped into brilliant sunlight. After the gloom of the bar, my eyes were momentarily dazzled and I couldn't see. When my vision finally cleared, I found myself standing in the middle of a dusty, dirt road. There were wooden buildings on either side of the street and men walking around in cowboy boots and hats and women in long, corseted dresses.
Well, here was the Texas I'd been expecting, but this was Texas in the mid-to late 1800s I'd guess. I'd forgotten how much Jack loved old westerns. I looked down at myself. Yep, brown trousers, dusty, black boots, a blue, homespun shirt topped with a leather vest. I reached up and felt a cowboy hat on my head. I looked around for Jack and Sarah.
I spotted them walking on the boardwalk a few yards ahead of me. I jogged up to join them. As I did, I heard the jingle of spurs with every step I took. Oh, no, that wasn't going to get annoying damn quick or anything…
When I rejoined them, I found that Sarah was now dressed in a long, deep green dress with her hair pulled up under a rather fetching straw hat. Jack was dressed in a black suit with a long frock coat and burgundy waistcoat. A gold watchchain dangled from one pocket. He had a Planter flat crown hat on his head. He glanced back at me as I caught up to them.
"Oh, you're still here?" he said.
"Yes, you're not getting rid of me that easily. So, what happens now? Are we going to save the stage coach? Catch some bank robbers? Pull Timmy out of the well?" I asked.
"Please, look at me. I am a prosperous gentleman rancher. I don't chase bank robbers. I manage my estate."
As he said this, the town around us sort of faded away and we were now walking toward a large, elegant mansion. Around us was wide open pasture land and in the distance, I could see cattle grazing beyond a split rail fence. As we approached the wide, covered porch of the house, a young woman came forward to greet us. She was wearing a pink dress with lacy frills and her dark hair was pulled back in cascading ringlets. It took me a moment to realize that this wholesome vision in pink was Riley.
I leaned close to Jack and said, "You do realize that Riley would probably kick your ass if she knew that you'd pictured her in a frilly pink dress with her hair in ringlets."
"Hey, my head, my rules. Watch yourself or I'll picture you in the stockade."
He turned away from me to give Riley a quick peck on the cheek as we stepped up onto the porch. Bozer stepped forward as well. He was dressed similarly to me. Apparently, we were simple ranch hands.
"We finished with the branding, Mr. Dalton," Bozer said. "Is there anything else you want me and the boys to do?"
"No, thank you, Bozer, my good man. That'll do for the day. Why don't you and Mac, here, head on into town, to the saloon, have yourselves a good time," Jack said, looking pointedly at me.
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Dalton!" Bozer said with a touch to the brim of his hat.
"Jack, stop it!" I snapped, losing patience.
"No, you stop it! Stop tryin' to ruin things for me. Look at this, a beautiful family, a beautiful spread of land, a beautiful home. What more could a man want?"
"Oh, I don't know, how 'bout reality?"
"Reality's overrated. What's waitin' for me in reality? Guys tryin' to kill me, a broken heart, and an empty apartment." He turned quickly away from me so I couldn't see his pain.
"Look, Jack, I'm sorry. I get it."
"No, you don't!" he said, spinning around to face me again. "You're still just a kid. You're not starin' down a long list of missed opportunities. You still have time. I'm runnin' out!"
He spun away from me again and headed into the house. Feeling like complete shit, I followed after him. Stepping across the threshold, I stepped into darkness. I stumbled for a moment and gradually, discovered that I was standing on the roof of a tall skyscraper in… Los Angeles, present day? It was nighttime and there was a bit of a chill in the air. Almost afraid, I looked down at myself, but found that I was dressed basically as I was when I went to the hospital, a pair of olive drab chinos and a black, long-sleeve t-shirt.
I spied Jack a few yards away, seated on a silent air-conditioning unit, staring down at his hands. I approached him slowly, not sure what I was going to say. As I drew closer, I saw Bruce Willis, in his undershirt, ala John McClane, run up to Jack.
"Jack Dalton? Oh, thank God you're here," McClane said. "My wife and several others are being held hostage down below. I'm going to need your help to free them."
Jack looked up distractedly. "What? Oh, yeah, sure, Buddy. Why don't you go on ahead. I'll catch up to you."
"Okay, great, thank you. I can't do this without you," McClane said and ran off… somewhere.
I walked up and leaned back against the unit beside Jack. "Sorry for messing with your head, literally," I said.
He gave a soft chuckle at that. "Well, what are friends for."
"Look, Jack, you know I would never do anything to prevent you from being happy, but none of this is real and that's not really happiness. That's just denial. And we still need you. Who's going to keep Riley out of trouble? Her dad? I don't think so. And who's going to watch my six? You know if you don't come back soon, Mattie's going to reassign someone else to be my bodyguard. Probably Carverson."
"Oh, God, no, not Carverson," Jack said. "He's such a doofis, he'll get you killed for sure. There's no way he could keep up with that busy brain of yours. But I can. 'Cause I've got an imagination."
"Yes, yes, you do," I agreed, looking around us.
He smiled. "Listen, there's just one last stop I want to make before I go."
"Alright, let's go," I said, standing upright.
"No, no, this one I gotta do alone," he said, getting to his feet.
"But you are going to come back, right?" I asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I promise. It'll be quick."
"You better, because I can and will track you down again."
He gave me a clap in the shoulder and turned away. I watched as he walked to a steel door set into a small concrete structure that should have opened into a stairwell, but instead opened onto a quiet suburban street. Just beyond Jack, I could see a neat, middle class house. The garage door was open and I could just make out an older man bent over the engine of classic Mustang. Jack stepped through the threshold and the door closed behind him, cutting off my view.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and focused my thoughts on the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. With a bit of concentration, I could once again hear the EKG machine and I focused in on that. As the sound grew louder, I opened my eyes and found that I was back in the hospital. Jack was still asleep. I stood and stretched. My muscles had cramped up from sitting in the same position for… well, I didn't know how long. Although it couldn't have been more than an hour or so since Bozer hadn't arrived yet to take my place.
I was just about to sit back down, when I heard a soft groan from the bed. I looked over to see that Jack was waking up. I moved to his side.
"Hey, welcome back," I said.
"Hey," he croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Man, I had the weirdest dreams. You wouldn't believe it…"
"Oh, I don't know. Try me."
*The End*