Mac was sliding into insanity, or at least it felt like it. He was a brain, eyes and ears that couldn't move. He wished that shrapnel had cut off his fucking head. Mac closed his eyes. He couldn't even deep breathe to relax. At first, Jack's heartbeat was comforting a reassurance his brother was there. Hours later it was a loud ticking from a clock that never moved in a silent room. Mac would never hurt Jack, of course, but he wanted to take a knife and stab his heart over and over until it was quiet.
Not that the floor was quiet. Periodically a nurse or CNA would come in and check on him. They would reposition him asking how "we are doing?" I'm fucking great, you fucking moron! Of course he was as silent and motionless as a piece of furniture.
Mac was beginning to get worried about Jack. The man didn't wake up with the continuous hospital traffic. Normally the Delta was awake before a footfall fell a hundred yards away. He slept soundly, snoring- that was getting grating!-and did not move a muscle. Mac couldn't see the clock, but it felt like hours had passed. He'd seen two different batches of staff. Mac was now turned away from Jack, his head still leaned on the older man's chest but he faced away from Jack's face. He couldn't see anything except the closet, open bathroom and sink with a scratched mirror over it that Mac was pretty was recycled plastic. Mac stared at the toilet with a longing he was pretty sure no one ever felt before. The ability to stand up, know when you had to piss or shit, go into the privacy of a room. The ability to wipe your own ass, clean your hands. Mac blinked helplessly.
Matty and the others silently crept in, Mac closed his eyes until he heard them leave. Having them here warmed his heart, but their eyes held cutting pity and fear a heavy combination. They would stammer platitudes and not meet his eyes. Mac didn't blame them, would he know what to say either? Worst of all was the "you're being very brave" or "it'll be fine, you'll see." Mac wanted to scream. Brave? How could he be brave when there wasn't jack shit he could do about his situation? How did they know he was being brave when they couldn't see the terrors behind his eyes- locked in behind a mouth he couldn't move and a voice he couldn't speak.
And Mac knew the odds- well to the seventh decimal anyway and he made a lot of guesses on variables-but the technical term for it was snowball's chance in hell. Mac clung to that sliver of hope, he had to believe he was going to live, but like this? The light from the bathroom fogged. Tears again. He had no idea if they were leaks from dry eyes or from the blackness sucking him down.
Mac blinked. He refused to close his eyes. He didn't feel tired, but he didn't really feel awake either. Was that something the nerve system was in control of? Was that a brain thing? Was something wrong with his brain?
Then Mac heard something that would have stopped his heart. A slow familiar whistle-Home on the range. No, no, no, no, no...how could HE have found them? Mac could see the shadowed outline of a man in the mirror above the sink. He could hear quiet scuffs as the man stepped into the room. No, no, no...Mac chanted. Jack! Jack, wake up! The door slowly closed. Mac blinked wishing his eyes could adjust, that he could do something, anything...
"MaaacGyyyver." Mac's body couldn't react, but he knew his brain could feel the gibbering terror cut up his spine like a knife made of ice. It was like feeling a phantom limb, or memory. Mac closed his eyes, but it was no nightmare he could wake from. The steps crossed the darkness one after the other. Oh C'mon, get it over with! Mac screamed. He blinked as the lights over the bed clicked on. He felt like he was on a stage under a spotlight.
"Hello, Angus." Mac mentally braced himself and slowly opened his eyes. He had no idea if his anger or fear showed. Mac blink surprised. Murdoc pulled off a mask and slowly took off the white coat of a doctor.
JACK, I swear I will take you to meet Bruce Willis in person if you'd just WAKE UP! Jack continued to snore, oblivious to the death that leaned over him. Murdoc bent to look into Mac's face. Mac met his black gaze, refusing to turn away from the sharp stones as cold as his shark smile.
"I heard about your...tragedy and had to come visit. We are such good friends." Mac tried to avoid blinking as a form of defiance, but he had as much control over that as he did his arms. Murdoc reached over and brushed Mac's hair away from his face. Mentally, Mac flinched.
"Of course it isn't going to be as fun as our usual repartee, as I have to do all the bantering myself. But you are so predictable. You won't get away with this, we'll stop you...blah, blah, blah." Mac closed his eyes as Murdoc bounce his index finger off Mac's nose. Mac swore he could feel it, a blistering cold burning in the wake of Murdoc's touch. Murdoc slowly sank to his knees and studied Mac. Mac narrowed his eyes trying to show the depth of his hatred for this man. Murdoc smiled.
"You have such expressive eyes. Maybe I should pop them out." Mac's eyes widened. Murdoc leaned in and put his thumbs over Mac's eyelids. NO, NO, NO…! Murdoc rubbed Mac's eyes then removed his fingers.
"Only joking, Angus. What would be the fun in that?" Mudoc leaned over and studied Jack's unmoving body, "I could kill Jack right now, you know cut his head off and leave it on this lovely bedside table, how fun would that be if you couldn't stop staring into his sleeping, dead eyes?" Mac closed his eyes. Please go away, please go away. JACK!
"Maybe I could bring in your friends one by one and kill them as you watched, unable... to do...anything." Murdoc stood up and closed his eyes taking a deep breath a satisfied smile on his face, "Just think how fun that would be-you couldn't call for help, couldn't even scream in pain or whatever people do when they care about someone dying. You couldn't even beg for it to stop...Please Murdoc, please don't, please no...oh delicious."
Murdoc pulled out a long boning knife. Mac squinted his eyes shut, a silent rage rattling his skull. Murdoc stepped out of his line of sight. Jack, no. Mac's vision blurred again. He heard a meaty slap and Murdoc laugh. He crossed back to face Mac. He pulled the bedside chair closer and leaned forward studying Mac's face from less than an inch away. He leaned back and laughed. He reached out a finger and wiped Mac's tears away then put them in his mouth. Murdoc leaned back and smiled as if he'd just eaten the best culinary delight on the planet.
Only Jack's steady snoring and uninterrupted heart beat reassured Mac that Jack was unharmed. Murdoc crossed his legs and waved a hand absently at Jack.
"I only returned to him what he gave me. Don't worry, Angus. He won't wake up with more than a bloody nose, for now anyway." Mac heard Jack moan and move under his head. Murdoc leaned forward studying Jack, "Oh dear, looks like I gave him a nightmare. Too bad he won't wake up from it." Murdoc patted Mac's cheek. Mac was glad he couldn't feel it.
"Don't look so panicked. He's going to have the worst headache of his life, but he'll be fine. Unfortunately, dear Angus, he won't be able to be with you when you have surgery. You'll be all alone, just like always." Murdoc gave Mac a mocking sad look.
"Poor, poor Angus. Who are you going to help now? You can't even help yourself. You are as useful as a piece of furniture. No, not even at least you can sit on furniture without breaking it." Murdoc looked at his watch. He turned and pushed the chair back. He pulled the rolling bedside table forward until it was less than an inch from Mac's face.
"Despite what everyone says I do have a warm heart full of love for my fellow man or whatever." Murdoc smiled, "I don't want you to spend the next few hours with nothing to do so I brought something for you." Murdoc pulled out a box of paper clips and put them on the edge of the table. Mac could read the copyright date.
"Oh, that would be mean of me as you can't do your twisty thing with these paper clips can you? Well, I guess I'll have to help you get a good night's sleep, or a couple hours at least, before your surgery. You'll need your strength if you're going to survive. " Murdoc leaned down his face a cruel mask, "And believe me, MacGyver, I do want you to survive." Mac glared at the man. Murdoc smiled. "Good night, sweet prince." Murdoc turned off the light over the bed. He crossed to the bathroom and clicked off the light. Mac's eyes widened with true panic. No, no, no...please, no...
" See you soon, Angus. Kill you later alligator." Mac heard the assassins light steps. He closed his eyes knowing what came next and Murdoc didn't disappoint. Mac didn't feel the tears fall as the door was shut as tightly as a coffin lid and he was left in complete darkness.