Orange Crush by Parisindy- 2017 – A MacGyver 2016 fanfic
TITLE: Orange Crush
AUTHOR: Parisindy
DISCLAIMER: No money was received or exchanged.
I do not own MacGyver or any of its Characters.
This is purely for fun.
NOTES: Tag that takes Place after and during episode 204 – all spoilers apply.
A lot of better writers have written about this but I hope you guys don't mind that I have thrown my hat into the ring. I have written a lot of fanfic in the past but it's been a long time, and I am pretty rusty. This is my first attempt at writing for this fandom. I am an avid reader and lurker though and would appreciate any kind comments you have to offer.
Thanks for Reading. - Paris
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I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush
(Collar me, don't collar me)
I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush
(We are agents of the free)
I've had my fun and now it's time
To serve your conscience overseas (over me, not over me)
Coming in fast, over me
- REM song lyrics
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When Angus MacGyver was a kid, he used to like drinking orange crush soda. He had a very clear memory of sitting on an old milk crate sipping the stuff while his dad worked on the engine of some decrepit motorcycle. The memory was from when he was very small because he remembered needing two hands to hold the can and how his Mother would scold his father whenever he bought him one. She would complain about the sugar and how there were much healthier things a boy his age could be drinking. His father would smile and wink at his son in a mischievous manner; "Men needed the hard stuff when working on motors', he would reply. Angus would laugh at their antics and remind his dad that his mother knew just as much about motors as they did and that his mom was very smart. His father would then nudge him, with a grin on his face, 'do you want the soda or not?'
MacGyver had a near perfect memory, but even he had to question that memory at times. It seemed too idyllic, too normal, to be real. It was only a few months after that moment that his mom first got sick and in some ways that orange crush became a symbol… it had been the beginning of the end. Now endings he knew, he understood those. Everyone always left him sooner or later. So, was this simple, little, happy memory a dream? It was hard to tell, especially at this moment. Everything seemed like a dream right now. But then again, there had been an evil murder with needles and drugs, so maybe right now was not the best time to speculate on the concreteness of reality.
He staggered and fell to his hands and knees...water… cold. He blinked, his vision of his surroundings blurry. Where was he again? Oh yeah, escaping from Murdock. He was in an aqueduct under the building; round cylindrical, rusted metal…reminding him vaguely of what it might be like to be inside an orange crush can. He never drank the soda again after his mom died. He and his dad never worked on that engine again.
'Oh, MacGyver! Come out and play!' The eerie voice floated down the tunnel, shaking him from his drug-fueled memories. Man, he hated Murdock and dammit he missed Jack, but more than anything MacGyver hated the loss of control. He needed to get away, regroup, and get his mind straight.
He needed to run.
Everything became pretty jumbled after that. He remembered running, tripping, weird sounds echoing, and bouncing through the tunnel. Was that footsteps behind him? There was an opening upwards, a manhole cover, lots of cars, and very bright lights.
The next moment of awareness didn't come until he jolted awake as a doctor moved a penlight in and out of his eyes repeatedly; his heart pounded. Where was he? Murdock? Run! He gasped for air, confusion fueling his panic. The kind-faced doctor smiled at him as she took his pulse. 'Take a deep breath Agent MacGyver.'
'Bud, you're okay.' The soft familiar voice came from the other side. Oh God, it was Jack.
Mac nearly flung himself at the older man. Jack was a safety net in a very turbulent sea. He was his partner, his brother. He had been so stupid to push him away in Paris.
'You're here! I knew you would come.'
Jack pushed Mac gently back down on the medical bed. 'Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm kid, but this is the sixth time you've been happy to see me in the last half hour and I've not gone anywhere since we found you. 'Jack's southern drawl was like a balm to the younger man's nerves.
'Six times?'
'Yeah, you've been pretty confused. That evil bastard dosed you up good.'
Mac closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. Jack was here. He could breath, for a moment.
He must have fallen asleep, or something, he seemed to have a very loose grip on time at the moment, but once again he was aware of the bright light blasting into his eye. Mac batted the doctor's hand away with an annoyed grunt and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as he sat up.
'Jeeze, Enough.'
The doc stepped back and made some notes on her tablet. Jack stepped forward, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. 'Hey now, it's not the Doc's fault, we're all just worried about you.'
Once the spots from his eyes cleared a bit he could just see just how much. The creases on his best friend's forehead seemed deeper and his eyes were red with exhaustion. Mac sighed, 'I know, sorry, it's just been a really long day… week, month. Erg, I don't even know anymore.' He waved his hands in the air, as he if was physically dismissing his own rambling thoughts. He just wanted to get away for a while, maybe he could take a small vacation to Nevada, he had liked it there once. For now, though, they needed to stop Murdock.
Mac jumped as the doctor, apparently not having gone far, appeared back at his side and unexpectedly put her hand on his wrist, taking his pulse. 'How about you lie back, Agent MacGyver. The sooner we can get your exam over with, the faster we can figure out what drug you were given and the faster we can let the rest of your co-workers in here to see you. They seem rather worried.'
Mac tried to focus on the doctor's face. She sounded pleasant enough, but the drugs were still messing with him big time and her face began to blur. He wanted to sit… he didn't want to lie down. He felt so damned vulnerable and that was not a feeling he was comfortable with.
'Actually, I think I am much better now.'
Off to his right somewhere, he heard Jack snort through his nose. 'You've been thinking a lot of stupid stuff lately Mac and the stuff Murdock gave you has not helped one Lolita.'
'Iota,' Mac mumbled automatically.
Jack chuckled quietly, 'Good to hear that big brain of yours isn't completely broken, now let the doc take a look at you.'
Mac's thoughts rambled through his head like marbles in a blender, but the pure instinct to get away kept his body tense. Did he want to run after Murdock or away from him? He was exhausted and wired at the same time. Dammit, he hated drugs. It had already been too long and they needed to find Murdock. He was trying to get to his feet before he even realized it himself. The doctor and Jack both grabbed an arm pulling him back down. The world spun on its axis but he was determined to gain some control.
'Sit.' Jack pointed a finger at him in warning.
'I was just going to…'
'No, sit.'
'Not a dog, Jack.' He groused but complied as the overwhelming dizziness swept over him once more like a roller-coaster. With the doctor's and Jack's help, he laid back down on the medical bed, but this time the room just seemed to spin faster. He closed his eyes, hoping it would help. He really needed the world to just slow down for one damned second. He felt like he was trying to think through an inch of mud. Everything was just heavy, slow and murky, but annoyingly his emotions were floating right at the top and that was no good at all.
'I feel fine, I should go,' he tried to convince anyone who would listen, but the truth was that he was feeling seriously claustrophobic. 'I should talk to Riley, I ….' He started to rise, but once again was stalled by Jack's meaty hand on his shoulder. Mac's face flushed with sweat and annoyance.
'I'm fine!' he tried to iterate, turning to face his partner.
'I'm over here buddy,' Jack's voice came from the other direction.
'Dammit,' Mac swore under his breath as he gripped the sheets beneath him in an attempt to keep the bed still. As much as he wanted out, in his current state he couldn't tell up from down and he was beyond frustrated.
'Hey man, this isn't you, take a breath and relax.' Jack's voice was kind and steady, even though it probably shouldn't have been after all that had happened recently.
He listened to his friend and took a deep breath to steady himself. Jack might play dumb a lot but he was anything but. Mac trusted him, he was Mac's rock. And right now, he really needed a rock to keep his emotions from sweeping him away.
Rocks…. his brain flooded him with yet memories of his childhood and his grandfather.
Angus MacGyver ran his fingers lightly down the strange rock wall. It felt smooth like glass, but left a strange residue on his fingers, turning the tips bright orange, as if he had indulged in a late-night snack of Cheetos. The air was a bit stale but otherwise warm and comfortable. He sniffed the air using all his senses to take in the wonder of where they were, even touching his tongue to his fingers, which tasted vaguely of dirt and salt.
His grandfather chuckled behind him, 'What would your mother think of me, allowing you to revert back to eating dirt like you did when you were three.'
The young MacGyver frowned slightly, 'what does it matter what she would think, she's not here, and I never ate dirt.'
'Come on Angus, none of your attitude, we were having a nice time, plus I have the photos to prove it'
He hmphed out loud, in a vain attempt to maintain his twelve-year-old pride. But his grandfather was right, as always, and he tried to swallow down his random anger. Since his Dad took off, he had become overly sensitive at any mention of either of his parents.
'Sorry Gramps, I really do like it here.'
Angus turned his focus back to the cave walls, well not really a cave to be truthful, just a narrow pathway between two very large orange rocks that had been eroded by wind and time. His grandfather had taken him on this road trip to the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada because he believed the young man "needed a change of scenery." Angus shrugged; despite the cause, he was enjoying it.
It was quiet and he was able to slow his brain even if it was just for a minute or two. He was smarter than most kids his age, or so he was always being told. His thoughts were always buzzing and analyzing. He had been given so many tests after his grandfather had to apply for custody of him. Since neither parent was around to sign over their rights, the state got involved and they were visited by social workers and then later psychologists and so on. That was when he was officially recognized as a 'gifted child'. His grandfather said it wasn't exactly a shocking revelation. Yet the one thing that was interesting was the possibility of him having the diagnosis of 'low latent inhibition'. Angus was unable to block out periphery information so his brain just processed everything around him all at once. Which explained why his brain seemed to be running at full speed all the time and how he could just improvise...well everything. When he looked at a chair or a lamp, he would just see all the pieces and how they fit together. So when he needed something, he didn't see the point of asking for it or going to the store to get one, he would just build it. No toaster or radio was safe when he was around. But "with great power came great responsibility" as his comic-loving friend Bozer would always say. All the noise and constant input was exhausting, especially for a kid still trying to wrap his emotions around the loss of two parents.
So, he liked it here, in Nevada, everything just moved at a different pace. It was just his grandfather, petrified wood and red sandstone for miles and miles. Even the birds didn't seem in a hurry he noticed as he looked up at the hawk that coasted slowly by looking for prey. It slowly kited on the wind, dipping and bobbing.
Suddenly the hawk seemed to change course. Angus raised his hand to block the sun so he could see it more clearly. It seemed to have found its prey and started to dive straight downwards towards Mac. It let out a shrieking scream as it got closer and closer, its talons extended towards his face.
'No!' he yelled in fright.
'Hey now brother, bad dream?' A hand clasped the back of is neck, grounding him. Jack was here. He blinked, looking around and noticed Bozer, Riley, Sam and Matty were also nearby.
Mac nodded, taking a deep breath to compose himself, sitting up slowly, hoping his friends and colleagues wouldn't notice how fast his heart was beating. His arm was now bandaged and his brain, though still a bit sluggish, didn't feel quite as clogged. The room was no longer churning and that was a definite plus. He rubbed at his chest which still ached vaguely from the Taser strike, but overall, he was feeling much better.
His team started peppering him with questions. At first, he didn't mind, the case was still ongoing, but with the drugs still in his system, the input was too much. Suddenly, Sam Cage cleared the room of everyone but Mac, her and Riley. Mac rubbed his eyes and felt more than a bit anxious when Jack went in too the viewing room a few feet away. His partner wasn't far away, but his absence was felt instantly. Sam was new and he didn't know her that well.
Then she turned to him, 'let's play a bit of a game.'
TBC