This was a prompt by just-another-loser. Huge thanks to Tamuril2 for giving me advice on this story!
This splits off at that point in the episode where Dryer is dragging Bishop off to who-knows-where, and Mac runs for the pillar in parking garage to do his thing with the wires.
This fic is completely written, and the next chapter will be posted on Tuesday (2/14), and the final one on Friday (2/17).
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, minor character death, gunshot wounds. The death isn't on screen and isn't graphic at all, and the gunshot wounds aren't bloody or graphically described.
The title doesn't really make sense until you read, like, the last line, but I liked it, so
ALSO THE PREVIEWS FOR THE NEW EP ARE SO GOOD I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL SATURDAY
Jack watched as MacGyver suddenly moved to the side, heading towards something off to the side of the parking garage that only he could see. As he ran, Jack moved towards Dryer, hoping to distract the man while MacGyver did- well, did whatever he was trying to do.
It didn't work.
The world seemed to slow as Jack saw Dryer bring his gun up, aim it at the blond, and pull the trigger.
The loud bang that sounded throughout the garage drowned out the tiny intake of breath that MacGyver gave when the bullet made contact, but not the wordless shout from Jack.
MacGyver crumpled, Jack ran to his side, and Dryer, face impassive, hand firmly gripping Bishop, dragged his captive away and forced the man into the FBI Director's car. After he had shoved the man into the passenger's seat with a snarled warning to stay there, Dryer stalked back towards Jack and MacGyver.
The older man was bent over the younger, his hand pressed tightly against the wound in the blond's thigh, just above his kneecap, and MacGyver was lying on his back on the floor, pale and shaking. Jack's head whipped up when he heard Dryer approach, his eyes narrowing as he saw the gun that was pointed at him.
Dryer motioned with the gun. "Take your friend and get in the car. Now."
Jack growled, "He can't move."
Dryer shifted his gun's aim in the blink of an eye and fired off a shot that hit the concrete just a few inches away from MacGyver's head. The young agent let out an involuntary yelp and attempted to flinch away, but, due to the pain he was currently in, the yelp turned into a cry of pain and he was unable to move.
Dryer said calmly, "Perhaps I wasn't quite clear. Now."
Jack gave a quick, jerky nod. Quickly, he tore off part of MacGyver's shirt and wrapped it around the wound, tying it tightly. Then, gently, he patted Mac's face. "Hey, we gotta get you up, buddy, okay?"
There was no response. MacGyver was so out of it from the pain that he barely processed that Jack was speaking, much less what was being said. Dryer, losing patience, fired another round, this one even closer to Mac's ear. "Either you get him in the car or I kill him right now."
Jack, trembling with rage, finally went with his only option. "Fine."
Placing an arm underneath Mac's shoulders and another beneath his legs, Jack picked the younger man up and carried him to the car, placing him in the back seat directly behind the passenger side. Then, at Dryer's command, he got in the driver's seat.
Dryer himself got in the back seat behind the driver's side, where Jack would be unable to do anything to Dryer. He said, "Follow my directions, and I won't kill anyone. Don't, and you'll be the first to die, followed by your friend and Bishop here."
They drove through the streets, the only sounds in the car Dryer's directions to Jack and the gasps of pain from MacGyver. After about fifteen minutes, they reached a small, nondescript house on the outskirts of the city. After Jack had parked the car in the garage, Dryer motioned for him to get out. "Go inside the house. You too, Bishop."
Jack frowned. "What about MacGyver?"
Dryer narrowed his eyes in suspicion, obviously thinking. "If you try anything, I'll kill him."
Jack nodded. Then, at Dryer's reluctant nod, he opened the back door and picked his friend back up. The younger man had lost consciousness, thankfully. Bishop opened the door leading into the house, and Jack set MacGyver down on the couch- or, rather, he tried to, but Dryer said, "Not there. I don't want the upholstery getting stained."
Trying to hide his outrage, Jack gently lowered Mac to the ground, eliciting a small moan. Ignoring Dryer, who was impassively watching the scene, Jack gently lifted the makeshift bandage that had become stained with blood, hissing through his teeth at the sight of the sluggishly bleeding wound.
Jack turned to Dryer, saying, "If I don't get something to stop the bleeding, he's gonna die."
Dryer shrugged, a lazy, careless motion that gave no hint of the fact that a man's life rested upon his decision. "And I care why, exactly?"
"If he dies, you'll have to deal with a body." Jack saw that this wasn't getting through to the man. He desperately tried another vein of argument. "He's brilliant; it'd be a shame to let him die."
It hurt Jack to reduce his friend to nothing more than his genius intellect, something he had seen other people do so many times he'd lost count, but he knew that that was the only thing that would get through to this man. When Dryer seemed to be on the verge of agreeing, Jack gritted his teeth and added, "Please."
Finally, Dryer sighed. "Fine. In the bathroom in the hall there's a medical kit. You can get it and bring it in here. And remember-"
Jack cut him off. "Yeah, no funny business, I get it."
The brunet pushed himself to his feet without a sound. He headed towards the bathroom, taking in his surroundings with the preciseness of a trained agent.
The house was a small affair, with minimal furniture and a bit of a modern look about it. The paint on the walls was neutral, and the walls were unadorned, which meant that the man most likely regarded this as a safe house, instead of a permanent living place. Jack felt himself relax a bit at that. As the brunet walked past the kitchen, Jack caught sight of almost-new appliances, sparkling and unused. What really caught his eye, though, was the picture frame on the wall that contained a picture of a dog.
Weird, Jack thought, but didn't dwell on the subject. As he continued down the hall to the bathroom, Jack thought furiously.
Given the nature of safe houses, most people were much more unfamiliar with their surroundings than in their own homes. If worst came to worst and Jack had to fight Dryer in here, the man wouldn't be at too much of an advantage, and Jack knew that, being a former Delta Force agent, he himself had training, including, but not limited to, using his surroundings, and not many others had that kind of experience.
Comforted a bit by this knowledge, Jack found the bathroom and the med kit. He tried to see if there was anything else that he could use for a weapon, like a razor, but there was nothing apparent, and the agent was reluctant to leave Mac alone with only Bishop as a line of defense against Dryer for too long.
As he turned to leave, Jack heard a gunshot crack through the house, followed immediately by a choked-off shout.
the bit about reducing mac to his intellect was inspired partly by TheGirlWhoRemembers.