Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters such as MacGyver, Pete, ect….although I do own the character Alexis and would like to keep it that way.

Chapter 5

It took me a good week to be able to get myself back to normal, sleeping through my night without nightmares, where I could eat a full meal without pushing the plate away after three bites, and I could stand for long periods of time without my legs feeling like a pair of shoe laces. I was glad to say that Zaven had moved in for the time being until she could get herself to the point where staying alone didn't bother her and she found a new apartment closer to someone she knew either us or the police station.

My father had almost lost his mind the past couple of days, and I felt sorry for him because every time there was a noise and no of us jumped, he was right there with a hand on our shoulder and reassurances. He was the best, and I suddenly realized that fact. I went back to work at the end of that week, as did Zaven and my father.

"I'll pick you up after work," my father said to Zaven as we dropped her off at the local movie rental store.

"I can walk home Mr. MacGyver," she said with a smile, "It's only two blocks away—I'll be fine."

My father nodded, "Alright then," he said gently with a smile, "and I've told you a thousand times, drops the Mr. It's only MacGyver." Zaven smiled and nodded as she walked into the store and we drove off.

Work was the strangest thing that I had to adjust too. Pete was constantly watching after me, sending me around to do things that I had done my first couple of weeks, things that a child could easily do. He always spoke gently, and it came to the point where it was driving me insane to be getting all this special treatment.

"Pete, please stop it," I said that morning, exasperated to the point of getting angry, "I just want things to go back to normal, no matter what I may have gone through or any other reason you have come up with."

"Things are normal Alex," he said. I sighed, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk, leaning on the desk itself as I looked him in the eye.

"Pete, you are stepping on egg shells around me and I hate it!" I said truthfully, "I want the old Pete that would call me on my cell went he got a lead on a hot case, the Pete that picked me up and dusted me off when I fell off of my bike…"

"That's right, I picked you up and dusted you off," he said firmly, "I protected you!"

"But you put e right back on!" I said exasperatedly, "I didn't want to try again, but you insisted and put me back on!"

Pete sighed, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, "Alright Alex," he said with a smile as he leaned forward once again, "You're right."

"I never get fed up of hearing that," I said with a smile as I stood up, satisfied that I had gotten my point across to him without being belligerent. "Now that we are on the same page," I said with a sigh of relief, "I need to know the down low on a guy by the name of Murdock."

I never had the real opportunity to meet this Murdock character, but I've been told that he has been a thorn in my father's back side for some time now, and I wanted to get to know him, read his file, think how he thinks, and know what he knows. Pete had hesitated on giving me the file because he knew that I was stubborn, like my old man; once I was into something, I wouldn't give up on it.

"I've told you a thousand times, Alex, if I've told you once," he said looking up at me with a small smile of apology. "I can't just give you those."

I rolled my eyes, "I could just go to Saunders." Saunders was a boy, well he was older than me but younger than the others around and that was what they called him, but that's not the point. He was a brilliant guy when it came to computers, and he worked as our technician, and could easily get me the files with a little…persuasion.

"Alex, give me a break," Pete said as he stood up exasperatedly, "Your father would kill me if I gave you those files, and you know that!"

"Either I get them from you or I'll find my way around it," I said stubbornly, my forest green eyes locking with Pete's orbs impatiently, "It's up to you, Pete."

"What's up to Pete?" my father asked, which caused me to drop my look, which would have told my father exactly what I wanted from Pete, and smiled at him.

"Nothing," I said with a smile as the realization that I could be very manipulative when I wanted to be. I smiled at them both and headed out of the room as I heard Pete say something along the lines of 'she's at it again' while my father sighed, apologized and also left, right on my heals.

"Alexis Liana MacGyver, stop right there and don't move an inch!" I winced as he used my full name and froze in place and closed my eyes, praying to God that he wasn't as mad as he sounded as he spit out that name like it was an abbreviation and meant nothing.

"Yes?" I asked, unclenching my teeth and opening my eyes as I spun around and forced a smile on my lips, my eyes locking with his, "Can I help you with something?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to drag Pete into you little expeditions?" he demanded angrily, glaring down at me.

"I'm not dragging him along like a dog on a leash, what more do you need?" I shot back, suddenly glaring back at him, angry to the fact that he was still treating me like a child when I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I loved the man, but I couldn't stand the fact that he was hiding this part of our life from me because he didn't think that I could handle it. It drove me nuts to think that this was the one man that had caused my father to lose sleep, had kidnapped me as a child—not that I remember it, but my old man sure does—and the old person that had been able to slip out of his grasp for the better part of almost twenty years.

"Leave it go, Alexis," he said, voice agitated, "Murdock is dangerous and I don't want you to get hurt or involved with him; do you understand me?"

I nodded, eyes still blazing angrily, "I'll stop asking Pete for help," I said, turning my back on him, "but I won't just drop it!" I added and began to walk down the hallway, leaving my father standing alone in the small hall, eyes burning a hole in the back of my head.

I was pissed off to say the least, I hated the fact that I knew nothing about this guy, that my father insisted on hiding him from me. I could handle myself, not that I didn't need my father, but wanted to know about this Murdock so badly that I would do anything to get those files—even run to Saunders.

I did just that, going up to the fourth floor and went to talk to my dear friend Saunders. I didn't really know the guy that well, but I'm sure if I put a little sass in my step I could get the files I wanted from him—okay, so I was manipulating him, but hey, I needed to know what it was about this guy that gave my father nightmares.

I headed straight into his little office type thing on the corner and sat down on his desk, leaning forward to look over his shoulder at whatever it was that he was looking at—I couldn't tell the hard drive from the monitor on a computer when it was torn apart, so I didn't know or care about what it was that I was looking at exactly.

"Watcha doin'?" I asked my voice overly soft as I smiled at him. He smiled back at me but I knew that he knew what I was up to by the look in his eye, "My father come and see you?" I asked as my voice felt to irritated.

"No, not yet," he said with a smirk as he picked up a file folder and held it before me, "This is the file on Murdock that you have been looking for," he said, dropping it to his desk as I reached up to grab it. I shot him a look on confusion as I dropped my hand to my side slowly.

"What do you want for it?" I asked lowly.

"That file holds any information that we have on him," he said motioning to the large, thick folder that now sat behind him, "And I want nothing to do with giving it to you; but if I were to have felt my keys on the desk, and my attention just happened to be averted while we spoke, then theoretically, anyone could take the keys and come into my office while I was out," he added, dropping his keys to the desk with a smirk.

I smiled, suddenly realizing what he was getting at; he didn't want me to be able to point the finger at him and he didn't want any blame to be able to be laid on him, smart boy! My smile widened as he averted his attention back to the computer that he was working on and gave me the opportunity to swipe the keys from his desk to my pockets. I stood and soon after and excused himself, saying that he had to go to the shipping desk to see if the part he had ordered earlier that week was in yet and we left as he closed the door behind him, locking it behind us.

My smile faded as he turned the corner. I had to decide whether to drop this Murdock thing and go home, or whether to break every moral I had and break into Saunders' office and get the file. Was it still considered breaking in if he gave me the keys? Was what just happened considered giving me the keys, or did I steal those as well? I was suddenly filled with guilt and remorse for ever thinking of such a thing, but I wanted to know!

I pulled the keys from my pocket and looked at them for a moment, just standing outside his office, looking down at the locked door and the keys in my hand. If I did this there would be no turning back, I would have to take the heat for it all because Saunders had the perfect alibi because he was in shipping. I decided that it was high time that I did something to find out about this Murdock and I put the key into the lock slowly, turning the key until I heard the door click open. I pushed the door open and walked in, walking over to his desk and just stood there for a moment or two, just looking at the folder. I took a deep breath, tossing the keys tot eh desk and took the folder, walking out of the room with more than just thoughts, now with regrets that I wasn't only snooping, but now I thief.

My father had stole stuff in his missions to help himself, keys, maps, cars, clothes, so why was this any different? It wasn't! I could tell myself that I thousand times and I still knew that what I had done was morally and legally wrong, but I could also say that I had to do it, but for what, my own personal gain? To cure my curiosity? Anything was possible at this point, and all I could think of was that I had the files—that's all that mattered right now.

I went to the lunch room first to drop a line that I was going home and that if my father or Pete needed me they could just call my cell phone. I then headed down the hall and into the elevator to the main floor and out onto the front street to begin the seven block walk home.

I couldn't help but wonder about that was in the files, what had this man done? I wasn't paying attention to anything or anyone at this point and all I wanted to do was get home. Have you ever gone somewhere, then not remember how you got there? You can't remember passing the local convenient store, or the movie theater? You don't remember crossing any streets or hearing any cars drive by? All you remember was leaving the place you were at and suddenly you were at your destination with no idea of how you managed it? Well I do it all the time when I'm thinking about something, and this time was no exception; I got home, kicked off my shoes and went straight to my room, opening the file and spreading the sheets across my bed as I sat in the middle of the mess, legs crossed.

I started with his name, age, current location—which was unknown—and line of work, which turned out to be a professional hit man with an organization named H.I.T. I then moved to personal information like description, hair color, eye color, family—which was only a sister, parents deceased—and other such things, moving from one sheet to the next without a second thought.

I then pushed the sheets aside, tucking them back into the folder and grabbed up the papers on his past in H.I.T—which I could seem to find the meaning of—and began to read each case individually. This took several hours because of the fact that the man was H.I.T's main guy and he had never failed a mission until it came to my father. These cases went from kidnapping of an infant child all the way to the cold blooded murder of an army general. It turned out that he was suspended for some time, where he actually asked my father for help on saving his sister's life, which my father did, and then went back to his old ways.

As my stack of papers began to dwindle down, I slowly began to learn why my father was scared of such a man. He was the type to play games, playing with peoples' minds as he watched them squirm and panic about their situations. The last file that the foundation had on him wasn't up to date, and I knew this because it was the one about the day he kidnapped me when I was two years old or so.

I was playing in a park just outside of town with my father close by, talking with an old friend when I was picked up and taken. I was gone a total of two hours before Murdock first made contact with my father and began his mind games; I was returned later that week, covered in blood with was tested and found to be only animal blood from a local butchery—another game meant to scare him, and it worked. My heart had sank to its lowest as I read all the notes about him, ho cruel he truly was and what he had done. This man was unbelievable!

I placed the last of the papers into the folder with a sigh and pushed it aside as I lay back on my bed and looked at the plain white ceiling above my head. No wonder my father wanted me to stay away from this guy, he was a real creepy person. I sat up as the sudden urge to close my eyes hit me, knowing that I couldn't fall asleep—yet.

I threw my feet over the edge of the bed, leaning forward in my seat, bearing my face in my hands, sighing again. I looked at the floor at under my feet and suddenly realized just how ugly my bedroom floor was—a white floor with specks of random colors of black, green, and orange. I gave my floor a disgusted look and ran my fingers through my hair as I looked back up at the wall, picking up the folder and stood up. I looked down at the yellow folder, heaving one last sigh before heading out into the kitchen, dropping it on the table and decided to get something to drink before leaving.

I heard someone coming up the stairs and gasped as I looked at the clock, tossing my glass onto the counter, slamming the fridge door and tossed my jacket over the files as Zaven crawled into the house, going straight to the living room and crashed down on the couch, placing an arm over her eyes.

"Long day?" I said, picking back up my glass and opened the fridge door and attempted to pour my drink for the second time.

"Uh huh," she groaned, not moving from her position on the couch.

I smiled, placing the pop bottle back into the fridge and closed the door, turning around to face her as I leaned against the counter, taking a small sip of the liquid, letting the bubbles tickle my throat before continuing to speak to her.

"Well, you can crash if you want," I said, downing the rest of my drink, groaning to the stinging feeling it left in my throat as I placed the glass down, "I'll be back in a few hours so you have the house to yourself," I added, grabbing the file folder before heading to the door.

"Where are you going?" she said, pulling her arm down as she leaned her head back to look at me, although I was sure that she was looking at me upside down.

"Just around," I said to her with a smile, "I'll be back," I added, opening the door as stepped out onto the landing, "Good night."

"Thanks," she mumbled, looking back up at the ceiling momentarily before throwing her arm back over her eyes, yawning as I closed the door and headed down the stairs. I groaned suddenly, stopping in the middle of the steps as I realized that the keys to Saunders' office were sitting on the kitchen table. I turned around, heading back up the stairs to get the keys so that I could put the files back before anyone—especially my father—found out.

I opened the door slowly, and silently, to see Zaven asleep on the couch and the keys on the kitchen table where I had left them. I walked in, grabbing the keys and slowly headed back towards the door to see my father parking the jeep at the bottom of the stars. I groaned, swearing under my breath and closed the door and headed down to my room, files in hand.

I closed my bedroom door, leaning against it momentarily as I scanned my room for a place to keep the files, but couldn't find a place where they wouldn't be spotted or put in a place where I wouldn't forget about them. I groaned again in aggravation, heading for my bedroom window, sliding it open and crawled out onto the fire escape, cell phone in hand. I looked back, closing the window and headed down to the ground as my father came into my room, calling my name.

I headed straight to the Phoenix Foundation and back up to Saunders' office, thanking God that he wasn't there. I didn't know if he had returned yet or if he had gone home for the night after going to the shipping room, but either way I wanted the file back on his desk before morning light.

I pulled the keys out of my pocket and looked for the right one on the ring, placing it in the door and unlocked it, opening it and slid into the room silently. I sighed in relief as I went to place the folder back down on the desk, but was stopped as I was pulled away from the desk roughly, the file falling to the floor as a hand slapped over my mouth.

I struggled against the person that had me, kicking the papers everywhere as his grip got tighter. At first, I thought that it had been my father; thinking that he had followed me here and didn't want me to scream when he pulled me away from the desk, but knew after the man's grip tighten painfully that it wasn't him.

Then there was Saunders, but I couldn't think of one reason for him to be doing this, so I marked him off of my mental list as I continued to scream muffled screams and kick the papers around. This guy was a lot taller than me and a lot more powerful, so I closed my eyes and concentrated, feeling the burning sensation return to my lower back.

As I groaned in pain, the man laughing as I shot my eyes open; I didn't recognize the voice. I felt the burning sensation move up at my back and began to head down my right arm as I grabbed his hand, knowing that this was going to hurt him more than it would me. I stopped screaming momentarily, long enough to take a decent breath, then cried out in pain as the burning left my hand and entered his.

He cried out in pain as I was tossed to the floor roughly, closing my eyes as I hit the floor and landed roughly on the papers that were scattered everywhere. I shot my eyes open, which had closed involuntarily as I hit the floor and spun around to face him, gasping as I saw Murdock, the man that I had just read about on his knees, hand held tightly to his chest, burnt and wounded.

I glared at him as I stood, suddenly more confident as he also got to his feet, dropping both hands to his side, "I hear that you have been looking for me," he said, eyes narrowing on me.

"Far from it," I spat back, feeling the burning, which I realized was only a small irritation at this point, build up in my back again. I closed my right hand tightly, stopping the sensation from moving up my back almost immediately.

"Then why the file?" he demanded, leaning against the wall as he looked down at his hand, "Nice job, how'd you do it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I spat, eyes blazing, "Now get lost!"

"Now, now," he said calmly, dropping his hand as he locked the door and moved over to lean on it, "I don't make an appearance for nothing."

He was so cocky that it made me sick! I glared as he relaxed, which only served to anger me even more. "Well, you did this time," I spat as I lifted my hand and opened it. I was going on assumptions now, but it seemed to work non-the-less.

The blue light left my hand and sent Murdock flying back, through the door, and into the hall as my blue light left his side and encircled the chattered glass from the window in the door and gathered it in a neat pile in mid air. I closed my hand slowly, watching as the blue light mimicked the action and pushed the glass closer together. I smiled, placing it on the floor behind where the door would be and ran out of Sanders' office, Murdock grabbing my ankle as I ran by and brought me to the ground roughly with a groan.

"I don't know how you're doing that," he groaned, coughing to the weight that had been slammed into his chest, "but I will win this!"

"You won't win anything!" I cried, kicking him in the face with my free foot, forcing him to let my ankle go and fall unconscious. I scrambled to my feet and ran to the elevator, getting on and ran out of the building once on the ground level without even explaining my hast to the receptionist.

I hated that guy even more now that I've met him; he was arrogant, egotistical, pigheaded, and the most of all, he was an ass! The only good thing about meeting him was the fact that I got to learn a little more about my gift and got a little more control.

I seemed to be getting better at using this gift and now I seemed to know enough to actually practice using it. It seemed that the blue light that exited my hand would only leave my right hand, and I could control it by using my right hand, it mimicking everything I would do. I figured that much out, and now that I knew that I was the only one that could see this light and I was the only one that seemed to have any such knowledge of this gift, then I would have to learn to use it whenever I wanted and not whenever it felt that I needed it.