Second Chance Family

MacGyver stood just inside the doorway of the cheap motel room, his casted arm resting gently in its sling. The unmistakable odors of mold, must and stale pepperoni pizza assaulted his nose.

"This is where you've been living?" he asked his son skeptically.

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'living'," Sam replied. "More like crashing. I try not to spend too much time here."

"Good choice," his father observed cynically.

"You're sure you don't mind me stayin' at your place for a while?" the younger man asked.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Mac smiled indulgently. "I'm just sorry I can't help you pack up," he said, glancing ruefully at his immobilized arm.

"No big deal. I travel light," Sam assured his dad as he tossed an oversized backpack and worn messenger bag into the Jeep before sliding into the driver's seat.

MacGyver climbed into the passenger seat of his own vehicle. It felt odd, not being able to drive. Not being in control. But then again, Mac had had precious little control over the events of the past week or so. Before this last assignment, he had been a carefree bachelor working as a globetrotting troubleshooter for the Phoenix Foundation. Now, he was a father to a nineteen-year-old son he never knew and had been offered a promotion to oversee a potentially significant environmental study he had been urging the Foundation to implement for years. What had just happened to his life?

"Dad?"

Sam's voice broke him out of his reverie and MacGyver looked up to discover them parked outside his apartment. Sam unloaded his gear as Mac climbed the steps to his home and unlocked the door. Neither man noticed the non-descript sedan that had followed them from the motel and was now parked just around the corner.

XXXXX

"You seriously don't have any real food in this place?" Sam called to his dad as he surveyed the contents of the refrigerator, shaking his head in dismay.

"That is real food," Mac answered from the bathroom where he was washing up.

"Not in my world," his son replied.

"We'll see if we can fix that tomorrow," MacGyver laughed as he came to stand beside Sam. "In the meantime, how about we order some take-out. You like Indian food?"

Sam shrugged and Mac took that as a 'yes'. Just as he picked up the phone to place their order, there was a knock on the door.

"Here," he shoved the phone and paper menu into Sam's hands. "Get whatever you want," he instructed as he strode across the apartment.

MacGyver opened his front door to find a tall, lithe woman about his age with long blonde hair standing on the other side. Twinkling eyes, eyes he had once gotten lost in, stared back at him.

"Hello, Angus. Remember me?"

"No," he shook his head. "It can't be. You're dead! I read about it in the newspaper."

"Then I suggest you start subscribing to a more reliable source. As you can see, I'm alive and well."

With that, Kate Malloy stepped forward and embraced MacGyver in a fierce hug.

"Who's at the—" the couple sprang apart at the sound of Sam's voice and Kate turned her attention to him.

"Hello, Sam. Or can I call you Sean?"

The young man looked as bewildered as MacGyver felt.

"Mom? Is that you?"

"It sure is, honey," she replied, wrapping him in her arms.

"But I saw Colonel Chung shoot you. I watched you die!"

Kate slowly backed away and held her son at arm's length.

"Yes, he shot me. But I didn't die." She then looked around and shifted her weight from one foot to another. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation inside?"

Embarrassed by his sudden absence of basic manners, Mac quickly stepped aside to allow Kate to enter.

"Please, have a seat." He motioned her to the couch and he and Sam settled into their own chairs.

"Care to tell me what happened?" she asked, nodding at his arm.

"I'd rather hear about you," Mac declared, bitterness seeping into his voice. "Where have you been the last ten years?"

Kate sighed and settled back against the cushions before beginning her story.

"After I was shot, the Red Army took me back to their headquarters. A Canadian print journalist was also being held captive there. His name was Richard. He had been imbedded with some troops and had some experience as a medic. He saved my life and nursed me back to health."

"How long were you there?" Sam asked.

"It was five years before the Canadian government stepped in and rescued Richard. By then, we had fallen in love and Richard refused to leave me behind. We got married shortly after arriving in Canada. He knew about you," her gaze traveled from MacGyver to Sam. "Both of you. He helped me track down my friends who had taken you in."

"Why didn't you come for me?" Sam asked, and Mac could hear the hurt in his voice.

Kate smiled sadly. "You were a stubborn young teenager on the way to becoming an independent young man. I didn't want to cause you any more upheaval, but I always kept track of you."

"So what changed?" he asked defiantly.

"Richard was on assignment in the Middle East when he was killed by insurgents six months ago. Suddenly, I was alone in a country that wasn't mine. I decided it was time I stop skulking in the shadows and reconnect with my family."

She reached out to stroke Sam's cheek, but before she could make contact the young man shot up from his chair and headed to the door.

"I need some air," he mumbled as he hurried out into the night, passing the restaurant delivery man without a backward glance.

XXXXX

MacGyver sat across the kitchen table from Kate, pushing his food around his plate with his fork, his appetite long gone.

"You're awfully quiet," she ventured.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked huskily.

Even after all these years she still knew exactly what he was referring to.

"We were so young, Mac. With so many dreams. I knew you'd want to get married, settle down, make things right. But I couldn't stand to hold you back. I loved you too much for that."

"You had no right to make that decision for me!" he shot back. "I could have changed!"

"Well maybe I couldn't," she replied softly, lowering her eyes to her lap. "I was practically a kid myself. Oh, I wanted Sam, but the thought of marrying you, having a family. It scared me. So I ran." At this point she reached across the table to take his hand. "But never doubt for one moment that I loved you. I've always loved you."

"What about Richard?" Mac asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I loved Richard," she admitted. "But he was never you."

Uneasy silence hung in the air as MacGyver removed his hand from hers and ran it through his unruly hair. Finally he blew out a breath.

"So what happens now?"

"Whatever we want!" she replied, her smile reaching her eyes for the first time that evening. "I still work freelance. We could travel the world, be together, share the adventures we always dreamed of!"

"It won't work, Kate," Mac said sternly as he rose from his chair. "I'm not the same guy anymore."

"You're wrong, Mac. You're too much like me. Never happy unless you're on the road to somewhere else."

"No! I have commitments now. Friends, a job where I can really make a difference. I just can't up and leave!"

Kate's woeful frown pierced MacGyver's heart.

"You could move here," Mac grabbed her upper arms, excitement bubbling in his chest. "Sam could go to college or work with you! How about it? The first mother-son photojournalist team in Los Angeles! We could be together…be a family!"

Kate was shaking her head sadly even before he finished speaking.

"I'm sorry, Mac. After ten years, I'm finally free again. Free to go wherever I want, be whoever I want. I guess I still have some growing up to do."

She reached up and snaked her arms around his neck. He kissed her deeply, searching for the passion, the fire they once shared, but it was gone. He pulled back and watched her walk to the door. The door that would take her out of his life for good this time.

"Where will you go?" he asked.

"Somewhere else."