Once Bitten Twice Shy: Part 8
A little after 8:00 in the morning, Jack stirs. While his muscles still feel a bit sore and he has slight congestion and a dull headache, he feels rested and more like himself. He lumbers out into the living room to find Riley sprawled out on the couch fast asleep, hair askew. He takes a seat in the recliner across from her and smiles fondly while suppressing a slight cough.
Riley cracks open an eye at the noise and spying him watching her sleep offers, "Well, that's not creepy at all."
"Good morning to you too," Jack chuckles before continuing, "Did Mac stop by this morning?"
"No, at least I don't think so. He did come back late last night with the DayQuil." Riley advises.
"Damn, I shouldn't have said those things to him. He probably felt guilty and couldn't sleep. Now he's at the lab, probably exhausted. I really owe him an apology." Jack laments.
"Oh, you owe him no such thing! You didn't say anything that wasn't true. Besides, he should be more understanding. He KNOWS you have the flu, but he refused to go out and get the meds you wanted. Then he breaks your dad's coffee mug, sets your kitchen on fire, and let's you cut your foot on HIS mess." Riley fiercely replies.
"No, I was super cranky yesterday. Besides, that mug was already broken. I'm sure the handle just gave out. The fire was an accident and it wasn't his fault that I cut my foot," Jack sighs, "I'm disappointed that he just left last night without so much as goodbye. I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth and given the chance I'd have never left things like that. He must have been pretty hurt to just tuck tail and run out."
Riley sighs, "Well, he still refused to go out and get you more meds. Besides, he didn't just up and leave. I told him to go, and that I would take care of you."
"For him to so readily agree, I still worry that I hurt his feelings…" Jack starts.
"…Jack, would you stop already! Mac is a grown man. I'm sure he can handle some hurt feelings. You, on the other hand, have the flu. So stop worrying about Mac and take care of yourself already!" Riley bites out angrily.
"Hey sweetheart, I know you're concerned but I'm going to be fine. Where is this hostility coming from?" Jack asks surprised by the venom she's exhibited.
"I'm just tired, I guess. I'll go get your meds. What do you want for breakfast?" Riley deflects.
"Anything is fine. It still all tastes the same." Jack sighs, suspecting there is more to her behavior than she's admitting.
"Eggs it is then. But first, your medicine," Riley notices the DayQuil box is already missing a dose and asks, "You haven't already taken them, have you?"
"No." Jack answers.
Riley dismisses the missing pills, figuring Mac pulled the box from his own medicine cabinet before coming back over last night. She takes Jack the meds and goes about scrambling some eggs and fixing toast. Once Jack has eaten, she helps him settle into the couch. He watches a little TV before dozing off again. Riley takes the nearby chair and pulls out her laptop to busy herself.
Just past 11:30, Matty has her chicken vegetable soup simmering on the stove top. She chose to work from home today and take care of Mac, even though she'd given both Riley and Bozer the day off. She wonders if they assume he is at work, but a moan from the baby monitor she'd set up in the guest room redirects her attention. A faint high pitched ringing comes with waking, followed shortly the shooting pain from the light when Mac cracks open his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut, but it does little to stop the spinning sensation or nausea currently assaulting him. He knows the vomit is eminent, he needs to open his eyes and take stock of his situation but he can't bring himself to do it. Did he recently run a marathon or maybe a triathlon? That would explain why his muscles ached. Matty walks in to find a pale slightly green-tinged Mac tightly gripping the bedsheets and breathing rapidly. She moves toward him easily deducing the problem. Mac feels a small cool hand guiding his head down, he's too weak to resist it. As soon as it starts, he expects to feel warm puke soak into his clothing and bedding but instead he hears the telltale signs of it splattering in a small bin. Once he's finished, he feels a water bottle pressed to his lips and hears a feminine voice instructing him to rinse. After he complies, he is gently pushed back into the pillows.
"Open." The voice instructs pressing something to his lips, "It's a dissolvable tablet. It'll help with the nausea."
The voice is familiar, gentle, but he can't quite place it. He opens and takes the tablet. It works quickly and once his stomach is settled, he slowly opens his eyes.
"Matty?" Mac questions, seeing her standing over him on a step stool.
"Shh, just rest Blondie. I'm going to check your temperature." She explains.
Mac lets his eyes slip close again and feels the thermometer placed in his ear.
At the beep, Matty advises, "102.6°, I'll have to keep an eye on that. Take this DayQuil and Tamiflu for me. Then you can nap for a bit. I'll have soup ready in about an hour."
After Mac takes the pills, Matty places a cool compress on his forehead which he thinks feels amazing as he drifts back to sleep.
At 12:15, Jack hangs up the phone and huffs out a frustrated breath announcing, "Mac's phone is going straight to voicemail. I was really hoping he'd stop by on his lunch."
"I'm sure he's just busy. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone. You know how he is, just a few days ago he nearly left his phone in the war room." Riley offers.
"Yeah, except he didn't." Jack snorts.
"What?" Riley doesn't follow.
"He didn't 'forget' his phone. That was a ruse. He went back to enlist Matty in forcing me to go see medical." Jack explains.
"Wait, he did?" Riley questions, the anger she's held suddenly beginning to twist into guilt, "I didn't know that. I was actually pretty upset with him for agreeing to take you home without being checked out."
"So, that's what's been eating at you?" Jack asks.
"Yeah. Shit Jack, I really screwed up. I… I threw Mac out last night. I was just so angry and jumped to the wrong conclusions. It had been raining when Mac came back with your meds. He was soaking wet, but I wouldn't let him in. I took the bag and shut the door in his face. I'm probably the reason he hasn't stopped by today," Riley confesses.
"Well, then I guess we both owe him an apology," Jack suggests.
"Definitely." Riley agrees then wonders, "Do you think he'll stop by after work or go straight home?"
"I don't know. We'll go to him if we have to. We're overdue for that Die Hard marathon anyway." Jack concludes.
"Maybe one movie. You still need rest Jack. I'm going to go fix lunch." Riley relents.
Matty just turned off the burner for her soup when her doorbell rings. She opens it to find Jim on her doorstep. He brushes past her and walks in.
"Please, do come in." She states sarcastically before continuing, "You may want to keep it down though. Your son is asleep in the guest room."
"What!? Mac is here?" Jim whispers harshly.
"Yeah." Matty confirms.
"I heard that you responded to his non-emergent transport request and that he was diagnosed with the flu and a concussion, but I never imagined you'd bring him back here. Why didn't you just take him home. I'm sure Mr. Bozer would have cared for him." Jim continues.
"It was 4:00 in the morning." Matty states matter-of-factly with a shrug.
Jim asks concerned, "How is he?"
"Very sick. His fever was 102.6° an hour ago. I was just about to take him some soup and check it again." Matty advises, heading back toward the kitchen.
Jim follows to assist stating, "You know, I was actually surprised to learn that you're listed in the transport database."
"All active personnel are listed." Matty returns.
"You're the Director of Phoenix. You don't need to…" Jim begins.
"…I prefer to lead by example." Matty interrupts, "Besides, you and I both know that system was only set up because agents absolutely hate to be transported by ambulance when they need medical attention. All of the transport requests received, including this mornings, have been serious enough to warrant emergency transport if operatives weren't so damn stubborn."
When they are in the hall outside of the guest room, Jim hesitates before peeking inside to find his son asleep in bed. Mac's hair is sticking up in all directions, his cheeks are flushed and his mouth agape, drooling slightly. Fondness and regret tugs at Jim's heart before he carefully bends down and hands the tray to Matty. He thinks back to the dossier Matty compiled on him when he was in search of a new handler. She correctly listed Mac as his greatest source of vulnerability. When he'd told her of his plan to leave she'd advised against it saying something about how Mac was also his greatest source of strength, someone to live for and keep him grounded. At the time, he'd been lost in the weeds of tangled emotions and couldn't see the wisdom in that. So he just lurks, keeping tabs from the shadows, the role he'd relegating himself to when Mac was ten.
Matty set the tray on the night stand before stepping onto the bedside stool. Mac wakes when she removes the clothe from his forehead and brushes back his hair. He just looks at her as his mind processes where he is and why.
"Hey there." Matty greets gently.
"Hi." Mac returns dryly, his mouth feeling like cotton, as he pulls himself up into a sitting position.
Matty pivots retrieving the tray and placing it in front of him before handing him the bottle of Gatorade, "Here drink a little of this."
Mac obeys, cautiously at first but more readily when his stomach doesn't object, and replies, "Thanks."
"Alright, I'm going to check your temperature again," Matty advises in her no-nonsense voice.
"Don't wanna make you sick too." Mac offers weakly.
Matty smiles as she sticks the thermometer in his ear, "You won't. Even though it wasn't mandatory because of the vaccine shortage this year, I actually got the flu shot. Hmm, 102.4°, not the improvement I was hoping for but at least it's trending in the right direction. Now eat your soup. I'll be back to check your progress in fifteen minutes."
Mac nods and gingerly picks up the spoon as Matty retreats. Once in the hall, she silently motions for Jim to follow her.
After they are back in the living room, Matty asks quietly, "Was there something else, Jim?"
"No… well yes… just… thank you." Jim fumbles with his words.
"You're welcome." Matty assures, glad to see his resolve to stay distant from Mac cracking a little.
"Here, at least let me pay you for his medications." Jim offers pulling out his wallet.
"That's not necessary." Matty waves him off.
"I want to, please." Jim insists and lays a few fifties on the coffee table before heading for the door.
"It wasn't that much!" Matty calls after him.
He doesn't turn, just throws up a hand in acknowledgement of her words and continues to his Jeep. She sighs, supposing it's a start and hoping he'll work up to the more emotional aspects of being a father. She wets a fresh towel and heads back to the guest room.
"How you doing in here?" She asks, pleased to see most of the soup had been eaten.
"Finished, thanks… for everything." Mac replies sleepily.
"Of course," Matty sets the tray on the bedside table, helps Mac settle back down into bed, and places the fresh compress on his forehead, "Sleep tight, Blondie."
Mac just hums contentedly as Matty strokes his hair lulling him back to sleep. She gathers the tray and heads back to the kitchen. Since none of his teammates have called frantic, she's sure they have no idea he's sick, much less injured, and assume he's at work. Between the late hour, Jack having the flu, and the fact that neither Riley or Bozer got a flu shot, Matty supposes she can justify bringing Mac back to her place. She suspects they've all figured out there's more under her ball-buster façade by now anyway.
The insistent bell ringing, pulls Bozer away from the kitchen where he is preparing some of his miracle chicken noodle soup to take Jack. He opens the door stunned to see two uniformed police officers.
"Is Angus MacGyver here?" One office questions.
"Umm… No… No, he's not. Can I help you all?" Bozer replies.
The other officer answers, "Just let Mr. MacGyver know that we recovered his vehicle and the wallets from the robbery. All the cash was taken, but the victims we've talked to thus far have confirmed their credit cards were untouched. It'll be a while before we can release his possessions back to him. They have to be processed as evidence, you understand. In fact, it'll be really helpful if he could come in to provide elimination prints. You know, when he's feeling better."
"Whoa, hold up. I'm lost. What robbery? And what do you mean when he's feeling better!?" Bozer exclaims.
The officers then explain the events of last night, including the head injury and the fact that the victim in question clearly had a bad case of the flu. Bozer thanks the officers as they leave. He then turns to the kitchen and angrily begins packing up the soup. He'd have left it out of spite if it wasn't for the fact that Mac was also sick. Forty minutes later he's furiously pounding on Jack's door, startling both Jack and Riley awake from their respective naps.
"What the hell," Jack growls as Riley moves to look out the peep hole.
"It's Bozer and he doesn't look happy," Riley announces.
"Shit, he probably found out how we treated Mac last night and has come to tell us off. Might as well get it over with," Jack replies.
Riley opens the door and finds a pot of soup being shoved into her arms as Bozer rushes past her pointing an accusatory finger at Jack and proclaiming, "Damn it Jack, you should have told me!"
Bozer continues toward Jack's room, when he doesn't find Mac in there, he asks, "Where's Mac?"
"Boz, it's only 3:00, Mac is still at work." Jack offers as Riley nods her confirmation.
Bozer looks at them like they've grown an extra head exclaiming, "You did NOT just tell me you let Mac go to work with the flu and a concussion!"
Jack gets up, steers Bozer to a seated position on the couch, and forces eye contact before asking, "Bozer, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You… You mean you don't know?" Bozer returns meekly, feeling small for having thought so poorly of his friends.
Riley takes the seat next to him and places a hand on his shoulder, "Know what?"
Bozer goes on to explain everything he learned from the officers not even one hour ago.
Jack is up and pacing before Bozer even finishes the story, "If he's not at your place and he's not here, where the hell is he!?"
"Phoenix Medical maybe?" Riley offers.
"Dial." Jack instructs.
"Put it on speaker." Bozer adds.
"Phoenix Medical. Nurse Camilla speaking."
"Cam, um… Jack Dalton here."
"Jack, how are you feeling?" Nurse Camilla inquires.
"Better, can you tell me if Mac is currently a patient in Med?" Jack asks impatiently.
"I just came on shift. Just a second," She replies as typing is heard, "No, but he is on the medical leave list."
"Thanks Cam."Jack returns dejectedly.
"Sure thing. Sorry I can't tell you more. Take care Jack." Camilla answers before disconnecting the call.
"Damn it, Mac. Where the hell are you, bud?" Jack wonders aloud.
"Could he be at a different hospital? When did you last see him?" Bozer questions.
Riley swallows a lump in her throat and admits, "I think I was the last to see him. Sometime around 11 o'clock last night."
"11:00? So after the robbery? He didn't say anything? How did he seem?" Bozer rapidly fires the questions at her.
Riley takes a breath and regretfully fills Bozer in on the events of last night with Jack interjecting his own mistakes. By the time they are finished, Bozer is even more angry than when he'd first arrived.
"What the hell is wrong with you people? I mean, I kinda get that Jack was sick and said things in the heat of the moment, but Riley I don't understand. After all he did for us in Africa, how could you even think for a moment he wouldn't have Jack's best interests at heart?" Bozer responds, his look of betrayal further twisting their stomachs.
"I don't know. I… I was so focused on Jack's health that I… I guess I had blinders on." Riley answers choking back a sob, "I'll understand if doesn't forgive me."
Bozer sighs, "Of course, he'll forgive you. We're talking about Mac. He's got the biggest heart of anyone I know. In fact, he's probably already completely justified your actions and is ready to apologize to you. No matter how hard I try, I've never be able to convince him that he doesn't deserve all the crap life throws at him."
"I've spent years trying to show him that he's worthwhile. I hate that I may have unraveled that with just a few stupid words." Jack adds.
"Well, I'll just have to make sure he understands that this was completely my fault and he did nothing wrong. But first, we should probably find him." Riley suggests.
After calling every hospital in the greater Los Angeles area and coming up empty, the trio slumps defeatedly in their respective seats.
"What now?" Bozer asks.
"I don't know." Riley offers and they both look at Jack.
"I think we're going to have to call Matty." Jack admits.
"And tell her what exactly?" Bozer questions.
"The truth. Remember, Cam said Mac is listed as on medical leave, meaning Matty knows something. And in my experience, Matty usually knows everything. Trust me, she'll be able to tell us where he is." Jack returns.
Matty's returns to the guest room to have Mac take more medicine and recheck his temperature. She first takes the dried clothe from his forehead.
"Hey Mac, wake up for me," She softly coaxes him from sleep.
Mac groans and blearily opens his eyes, squinting even though the room isn't well lit. He feels his stomach flip and realizes the nausea has returned. Matty must have seen it too, because she gives him one of those disintegrating Zofran tablets. He gratefully sucks on it while she checks his temperature. She frowns when the thermometer still reads 102.4°. She gives his stomach a couple more minutes to settle before handing him the other meds and unsweetened apple juice. He silently accepts them and pushes himself up in bed. He takes the medicine and is sipping the juice when another pressing matter makes itself known. He glances around the room, hoping to find an adjacent bathroom nearby. There are two similar doors each on opposite sides of the room, probably a closet and a bathroom. Mac looks around trying to figure out which is which, knowing that if he makes the wrong choice he won't make it to the other side of the room. If only he knew more about the layout, which walls were exterior walls, etc. He blushes realizing he's going to have to ask; it's that or guessing and possibly peeing himself in front of his boss. He imagines this is similar to how Riley felt in Africa.
"Try to finish your juice, Mac. Do you need something else?" Matty asks.
"Um, the bathroom?" Mac questions timidly.
"Of course, right here." Matty indicates the door nearest the bed.
She hops down and helps Mac out of bed and, when he stumbles, she instructs, "Use the walls to steady yourself."
Mac gets the bathroom door closed, drops his pants, and sinks onto the toilet without a second to spare. He just didn't have the energy or steadiness to take care of business standing just yet. Once finished, it takes all the energy he can muster to pull himself back up, flush, and drag himself back to bed. When he opens the door Matty is ready and waiting to assist, which he needs much to his chagrin. Mac is exhausted by the time he is settled back in bed. Matty lets him go back to sleep but leaves the juice on the bedside table for him. No sooner than Matty is out of the room, her phone rings. She notes that it's Jack calling, but the time is 4:03 so they've figured out something is up since it's not yet early enough for Mac to be off work. She moves into her office and shuts the door before answering.
"Jack, how are you feeling?" Matty asks.
"Better than Mac from what I hear. Where is he, Matty?" Jack gets to the point.
Matty sighs, "Can I assume Bozer and Riley are with you?"
"Yes, you're on speaker," Bozer confirms.
"So you're aware Mac has a moderate concussion and a bad case of the flu?" Matty checks.
"Yes, now where is he?" Jack snaps.
"He's being taken care of…" Matty begins.
"…I can take care of him." Jack interrupts.
"We can." Bozer corrects.
"Jack, you're still recovering yourself and neither Riley or Bozer got the flu shot, so no you can't. I'm not going to risk exposure and start a flu epidemic within the Phoenix. It's March and your team especially has spent more time on medical leave than active duty so far this year. Trust me when I tell you that he's safe, quarantined, but safe." Matty returns sternly.
"Matty please, there was a misunderstanding last night and well long story short both Riley and I owe him an apology." Jack pleads.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I really am, but he's in no condition to listen to it right now. Twenty-four hours after his fever breaks, when he's no longer contagious, I'll call you IF he's up for visitors. Look, I do know what's it's like having to wait to make things right, but this is what's best for him." Matty explains.
"Fine." Jack agrees reluctantly, he understands but doesn't like it.
"Now, I am hoping you can solve a gap in his timeline. We know that he signed a declination of care form for a paramedic around 22:15 last night at the pharmacy. At about 02:10 this morning he called the Phoenix and requested non-emergent medical transport. He was at a convenience store about a block and a half way from the pharmacy. He was drenched and half froze when he was picked up. Do you all know anything about where he was or what he might have been doing during that time?" Matty questions.
Riley shamefully admits to the brief encounter around 23:00, but beyond that couldn't really fill in any details.
"Well, having recently experienced the flu, I doubt he was just wandering around aimlessly. He had to have been stationary somewhere, sitting maybe even sleeping." Jack offers.
"It's possible. We may never know for sure." Matty grants.
"What did Mac say about it?" Bozer asks.
"Nothing really. He described feeling sick on the way home, stopping at the pharmacy, the robbery, and then calling Phoenix for transport. He didn't mention anything in between." Matty advises.
"Wait. Has he been asked about it? Specifically, I mean." Jack inquires.
"No, I'm sure he hasn't. He's very ill. No ones going to give him the third degree while his fever's hovering above 102°." Matty replies.
"102°. Geez, you will at least keep us in the loop. Especially if he gets worse?" Jack worries.
"Of course." Matty promises.
"So much for finding Mac." Bozer huffs, "I thought you said Matty would be able to tell us where he is."
"Oh, she could of, but didn't." Riley corrects.
"You all weren't listening. She definitely revealed Mac's location." Jack advises.
"Well she did say that he was 'safe' and 'quarantined'. Are you thinking he's at a safe house?" Riley inquires.
"Nope." Jack denies.
"Then where? Because I definitely did NOT hear whatever you heard."
Jack sighs, "She said that SHE would call us when he is up for visitors. Multiple times throughout the call, Matty indicated she's very familiar with his status. She's taken him back to her house."
"Really, you think?" Bozer marvels at the thought.
"I guarantee it. Unfortunately, that means we'll have to wait until she'll allow us access to him. We can't just go barging into the boss's homestead," Jack admits, deflated, "Especially not when she's in momma-bear mode."
Riley chuckles at the thought, "You've seen her like this before?"
"Once, there was an agent in the CIA she was especially fond of. Good guy, terrible taste in music," Jack replies.
"Oh, so basically you." Bozer ribs.
"I do NOT have bad taste in music. It's not my fault you young 'uns don't appreciate Willy. Nah man, this guy never got over a bad case of disco fever." Jack returns.
A couple hours later, Matty takes Mac another cup of soup and gets him to drink a little water. She's concerned because he's temp has risen to 102.7° even though she's been dosing him with the medications at the earliest recommended intervals. Maybe it's wrong, but at this point she doesn't care. For all the responsibility of running the Phoenix, she should occasionally be granted a few privileges too. So she picks up the phone and dials.
"Doc Pierce, it's Matty. Would you stop by my place on your way into work tonight? Mac's fever has hovered between 102.4° and 102.7° all day."
"That's high, but not dangerously so…" Doc begins.
"… I know, but I can't shake the feeling that there's something else going on. I get that the flu sucks, but I also know Mac and he is being MUCH too compliant. I'd even go so far as to say docile." Matty interrupts.
"Oh my, that is serious. I'm on my way now." Doc Pierce replies, with sincere urgency in his voice.
AN: As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. I know this chapter is a bit longer than usual, but still within my completely arbitrary rule of staying under 5000 words. I struggled to find a good breaking point, but one finally appeared. I do know how you all love a good cliff hanger and all that.