Sorry, my friends! I hadn't originally intended to leave it there, but this second half of the original segment had a huge hole in it that needed plugging... Oh, ouch, I just realized the irony of that statement! Now we find out exactly what caused Mac's nightmares.
Gibbs's blue eyes burned into the young tech's. "You think he's what?"
The young man pushed the Special Agent back, his eyes widening as he saw the finger marks on the stretcher. "He passed out, sir. The OR is already expecting us. I think he has internal bleeding."
If Gibbs could have pushed the ambulance there faster, he would have. He stared at his friend's unconscious but still agonized face for the short trip to the hospital, and when they finally arrived, he made sure to stay out of the way while they unloaded the stretcher and hustled it though the Emergency Room doors.
Ducky showed up moments later, puffing from his jog through the parking lot. "What do we know, Jethro?"
Gibbs gave a sharp shake of his head in lieu of an answer, continuing to pace the small waiting room off to the side. Ducky gave him an encouraging pat on the arm before hurrying off to find a medical professional to talk to. While he was gone, Gibbs pulled out both his phone and the Medical Identification card he'd gotten out of Mac's pocket in the ambulance. He dialed the number on the card, and waited while it rang.
"Sam Malloy; how can I help you?" a voice greeted as the line connected.
"Gibbs… NCIS," Gibbs returned.
"Gibbs! Nice of you to call! I've heard a lot about you."
Despite the situation, Gibbs found himself intrigued. "You have?"
"Oh, sure! He tells the story of your adventure in South America all the time. Especially when he's talked to those kids you guys brought back. He calls them every once in a while and touches base."
Gibbs felt a stab of guilt; he knew how the kids… college students, now… were doing, but he hadn't reached out to them in a while.
"So, what brings you to call?" Sam asked, breaking into his thoughts. "Anything I can help you with?"
Gibbs ground his teeth, hating that he had to make this call. "Mac's been taken to Bethesda Naval Hospital…"
"Aww, maaaaannn!" the Assistant Director groaned loudly. "What did he do to himself this time?"
Realizing that working closely with MacGyver would make a call of this nature fairly routine, Gibbs shrugged off his initial surprise at the lack of worry in the other man's tone. However, hearing one of Mac's catch phrases spoken in a voice that sounded just like his was a little weird. Moving past that, Gibbs answered the question. "Survived a fire-fight and an explosion, only to catch a blunt-force in the gut that landed him in the hospital."
"Ugh... Sounds like yet another adventure. Can I talk to him?"
Gibbs felt a moment of disbelief, but again had to realize that for the Assistant Director, hearing about experimental IEDs, gun battles, and an ambulance ride to the hospital sounded like just another day at the office. "Nope, he's in surgery right now..."
There was a moment of dead silence, then a sharp intake of breath that now contained fear. "Oh, God; you dialed in on the number from his Medical card! Gibbs, what happened? Is Dad… Is the Director all right?" He cleared his throat, getting himself under control. "Gibbs, what's going on?"
"Dunno yet… wait, 'Dad'?" Gibbs demanded in surprise.
"Director MacGyver," Sam clarified, sounding testy over his initial fear.
Gibbs could hear scrambling going on over the phone line. "MacGyver is your father? When did that happen?"
"Around 1974, only he didn't find out about it for eighteen years," Sam spat out. "I've got a flight; I leave for the airport in five minutes."
"How did you get a flight that fast?"
"It's a Phoenix jet, and I'm licensed to fly it." There was more scuffling over the phone. "The flight plan I just filed should get me there in… just under 5 hours. What do you know?"
Gibbs gave him all the details he could, and promised to keep Sam updated with any information that came up. Sam gave him a number to reach him at during his flight, and hung up as he was racing out of the office.
It felt like he had waited a century, but it was probably only sixty minutes later when Gibbs' phone rang again. He flipped it to his ear, ignoring the frowns from the staff working around the room.
It was Tony. "How is he?" was DiNozzo's first question.
"Still in surgery. Whaddya got?"
"We kept everyone separated, and we got the underlings to roll on Salazar. We have a full account of the Cougar shooting Andy Schwimmer, as well as a new insight into the world of arms dealing. Bishop is going to take a crack at Salazar herself to see if we can get a confession."
"The chemicals in the warehouse?" Gibbs prompted, remembering Mac's last gasped words.
"We all could have been nothing more than sticky messes had MacGyver not warned us, Boss. They were cooking some sort of nasty explosives in those recycling bins. Two of them blew up, but there were five others that were already fitted with a timer and fuse. Those guys were going more for show than finesse, so the IED's were on the touchy side. One wrong move, and… Let's just say, we sure appreciated the heads-up."
"I'll let him know. Good work..."
"On the subject of 'heads-up'," Tony continued before Gibbs might have hung up, "Boss… Abby's not taking this well. When she found out MacGyver was rushed to the hospital, it was all we could do to stop her from racing over there. The only thing keeping her in the Lab is the thought that she can nail the guys who hurt him."
Gibbs rubbed his thumb against his forehead. "Keep her occupied," he agreed. "She's not the only one wanting to rush to his side." In answer to Tony's unspoken curiosity, Gibbs replied, "Sam Malloy is MacGyver's son. He's on his way here now."
Tony sounded genuinely surprised. "You didn't know?"
That caused Gibbs to scowl at the phone. "You did?"
He could practically see Tony shrugging over the phone line. "I overheard MacGyver on the phone with his Assistant Director. Sorry, Boss; I thought you knew!"
Hearing something in Tony's voice that he couldn't place, Gibbs ground his teeth and demanded, "Anything else I should be aware of?"
There was an uneasy silence. "Boss, Bishop's gonna take on Salazar in Interrogation, and I've got to see this! Give Mac our best, and keep us updated," Tony rushed before the line went dead.
Nearly an hour later, Ducky nudged Gibbs out of a meditative stare. "Jethro!"
The surgeon emerged from behind the Operating Room doors. "He's going to be all right," she reported. She waited for Gibbs and Ducky to absorb that fact and express their relief before she continued. "I've never seen anything like it, though. He did have internal bleeding, which we found and repaired. We managed to get the bullet out at the same time. I'm pretty sure he hasn't cracked any ribs, but I honestly will have to have someone from Radiology look at the X-rays… they're like nothing I've ever seen before…."
"Bullet?" Gibbs barked, jerking to his feet. "Mac wasn't shot…?"
The surgeon put up a hand to calm him down. "Not today, but this particular bullet has been in there anywhere from two to five years, judging from the shape of it. I'm surprised he survived the initial injury, to be honest; he had excellent care the instant he was hit, but the methods were unconventional to say the least. I'm curious where he was treated and by whom; it was expertly done, but has all the earmarks of being done in a field hospital… or someplace a lot more primitive."
"Why do you say that?" Ducky asked.
"Because they actually used the bullet to cauterize the area. It wasn't the greatest permanent solution, but it kept him alive until now. It was being struck in the abdomen today that caused that area to bleed. Since we had better equipment here in our OR than wherever he was treated, we were able to repair the original injury and remove the 'temporary patch' of a bullet."
"Mac did say he'd been busy…" Gibbs huffed.
"May I see the X-Rays?" Ducky asked. To forestall the inevitable 'HIPPA Hesitation', Ducky tugged out his ID and passed it to her. "For the purposes of this Federal Investigation, I currently serve as MacGyver's Primary Medical Contact." The surgeon hesitated just long enough for her gaze to rest on Gibbs' badge before she gestured for them to follow her back into the room.
Ducky examined the films, amazement washing over his expression. "What exactly does our friend do, Jethro?" he asked under his breath.
Gibbs frowned, lowering his voice to a whisper also. "Works Field Ops for the Phoenix Foundation. He does what needs to be done."
Ducky answered Gibbs' unspoken 'why do you ask?' as he gestured back to the film and answered in a more normal volume. "His ribs have been repeatedly reduced to putty! Look at all this cracking and regeneration! I'd say he's had these here broken at least a full score of times, these over here at least a dozen, and I see multiple bullet gouges throughout…" He was silent for a moment as he ran a finger over the film. "…fifteen, sixteen, seventeen… Unbelievable!" His finger hovered over obvious damage to Mac's right collar bone and shoulder. "He was lucky he didn't lose his arm when he received this one!" He kept going, shaking his head as he continued his examination. "These marks here look like knife wounds; see how the bones here…here… here, and here… have been nicked?"
The surgeon was staring at him in consternation. "How can you tell that?"
Ducky gave her a sad smile, gesturing to his leather wallet that she still held in her hands. "My dear, I am quite adept at reading X-rays."
The surgeon frowned, taking a closer look at Ducky's IDs. "My patient's most current 'primary medical contact' is a Medical Examiner? That would explain a lot, actually... And this Foundation our patient works for… He 'does what needs to be done'? What does that mean?" she demanded, her gaze landing on Gibbs for an explanation.
"His branch of the Foundation does what the government can't," Gibbs said, and when both the surgeon and Ducky demanded further information, Gibbs sighed. "He jumped into a jungle to save me'n six orphans from a drug cartel."
"So he's one of the 'Good Guys', then?" the surgeon said in relieved surprise.
"The best," Gibbs clarified shortly. "Can we see him?"
"He's still sleeping, but I'll bend the rules and let you into PACU. You can go with him when he's transferred to his own room."
"Pack-you?" Gibbs whispered to Ducky as they followed the doctor down the hallway.
"Post Anesthesia Care Unit… formerly known as Recovery," Ducky smiled. "Usually off limits to visitors."
The room was dim when they walked in, and the air was filled with muted beeping. Mac's nasal cannula was draped around the large bandage on his forehead. A maze of IV tubes sprouted from the backs of both hands, and thick bandages bulged under his paisley surgical gown.
"He looks much better," Gibbs said in relief.
The surgeon couldn't help a chuckle. "I don't usually hear that at this stage of the game," she admitted. "Most people see the equipment and freak out a little."
Gibbs flashed back to Mac's agonized features and gray skin, and a shudder went through him. "Thanks, Doc."
"We'll be in when he comes around," she said. "Pull up a chair; it'll be a while."
About a half an hour later, the rhythm of the beeping started to change, and Mac's head moved against the pillow. A low groan escaped him as he tried to lift his hand but was prevented by all the tubes. He tried to take a deep breath, but stopped when it became uncomfortable.
"Easy, there, Mac," Gibbs said in a low voice.
MacGyver calmed, and the beeping sounds evened out. "…Gibbs…?" he mumbled sleepily.
"Right here, Mac."
The faint stirrings of a smile gathered on the corners of his lips. "…okay…?"
"You're gonna be just fine."
Mac's head drifted sideways a hair as his brows lowered. "No…you…"
Gibbs couldn't help a fond chuckle. "You're the one rushed to emergency surgery, and you're asking how I'm doing?" At Mac's incremental nod, Gibbs smiled. "The whole team's just fine, thanks to your warning about those bins."
"Ahhh… good…" Mac rested for a few long moments, but he managed to wake up when the nurse walked into the room to check on him.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, scanning his forehead to get his temperature.
"I've had better days," he admitted with a disarming grin.
She returned the grin. "I'll bet. But right now; are you feeling any pain?"
He seemed to be drifting in and out. "Naw… just hungry."
Gibbs couldn't help rolling his eyes. "You were starving to death when we first found you."
"Veggie sub…" Mac murmured with a faint smile. When Ducky asked for clarification, his smile grew a bit stronger. "McGee…"
Gibbs remembered the moment their 'suspect' had become their witness; MacGyver had asked Gibbs to thank his agents for picking up a sub sandwich for him, thereby saving his life. "You're not gonna be ready for a sub...or squirrel stew... any time soon, Mac. I think you're stuck with clear broth for a while."
Mac's nose wrinkled, making everyone laugh.
"You stay quiet for now," the nurse ordered. "When you're settled in your own room, we'll bring you something to drink. There's a button right here; if you start feeling pain, push it, and we'll be right in."
Mac raised his hand and managed to snag the sleeve of her white coat. She paused and looked at him, and his fingers slid down to end up grasping her hand with gratitude. "Please thank everyone for their hard work."
The nurse was obviously charmed. She blushed pink, and adorable dimples showed on her cheeks. "You wouldn't believe how rarely we hear that. You just made our day!"
Mac let go of her hand and she patted his shoulder before heading out of the room.
"Still a smoothie," Gibbs ribbed him, shaking his head in mock disgust.
"On behalf of the medical community, I appreciate his sentiments," Ducky protested good-naturedly. "None of my patients show this much gratitude…" When the others caught on to his joke, his bland expression warmed into a wide grin. "But truly, good manners are always appreciated."
Mac was once again fading towards sleep, but he managed a half-shrug. "Trying to sweet talk her out of the 'clear broth' idea…" he mumbled, bringing everyone again to laughter.
On one of my binge-watching days, I tried to tally up how many times Mac got beat up in the line of duty... and I lost count pretty quickly. Poor guy...