CHAPTER 11: Epilogue

Two Days Later, 1100: Temp 98.8F, BP 119/70, HR 82, RR 18, SPO2 100%

Once MacGyver had fully woken up, he'd not been able to sleep for two days. It had taken 6 more units to get his blood counts high enough to be stable. Then came vitals, blood draws, overhead pages, bad food, people wailing and fighting in other rooms, and a thousand other sounds and smells and sensations of hospital life. Mac had to admit it had been interesting at first but had quickly devolved into him just wanting to go home and take a nap. He was exhausted, covered in bruises, and overall miserable.

But, also, not dead. A step up from how he would otherwise be.

He woke in darkness, raising his head up shakily from the couch. "Wakey wakey sleeping beauty." Mac's insides twisted horribly before he realized it was Jack's voice in the dark room.

"Please never, ever say that again." Mac grumbled. He pushed himself to sitting and stretched gingerly, feeling the bruises dotting his arms and torso all over again.

"Or, you could try, 'thanks ol buddy for making sure I was breathing the whole time I was passed the hell out on your couch.'" Jack said good naturedly.

Mac groaned. His mouth felt like cotton and a weird, gross feeling reminded him he hadn't showered since the hotel. He still smelled like hospital and he had to pee so bad his bladder felt like it was about to explode. "How long did I sleep?"

Jack looked at his watch. "You were rounding 19 hours." Mac did the math in his head. He barely remembered climbing out of Jack's car after getting out of the hospital, but guessed that had to have been sometime around noon. So, 0700. He squinted at the clock on the microwave- 0717. "If you didn't wake up soon I was gonna wake you up myself- make you drink something." Jack looked proud of his nursing forethought as he filled a glass with water and brought it over to Mac.

Jack looked tired himself, Mac realized. The fact he was awake this early at all, when Matty must have given him some time off to take care of Mac, was astonishing. Mac felt a little guilty- Jack must have been up a good chunk of the night. Watching him breathe, apparently. There was a good rib in that somewhere but Mac decided to spare his intrepid caregiver.

Mac gulped the water, which tasted amazing. He got up stiffly to get himself another glass but the room spun weirdly. Jack caught him as he swayed. "Take it easy, kid." Mac swallowed, steadying himself. He couldn't believe all this had come from a crappy syringe dart less than a week earlier.

An hour later, bladder voided, body showered, and hair pushed, Mac felt almost new. Well, more like he'd stayed up all night, eaten a granola bar for breakfast, and then taken a crappy nap on a plane, but new all the same. When he got out of the shower, he smelled something burning in the kitchen.

Jack was making food? Mac had never once seen Jack cook in his life. Well, he'd seen him heat up an MRE a couple of times, but had always envisioned him otherwise living off of delivery pizza, beer, cold cereal, and peanut butter sandwiches. Something he was sure, if pressed, Jack would proclaim were the five food groups.

But apparently, today Jack was stepping up to the challenge. Jack and Riley and Gayle, to be precise.

And damn, he was thankful Riley was on egg duty while Jack manned the toaster.

"How are you doing, Mac?" Gayle asked, turning a sloppy pancake over in a pan awkwardly, as though the job had been handed to her mere seconds ago and without her permission. A jump bag with the Phoenix Foundation logo sat by the door, making Mac wonder if Matty had ordered her to go make sure Jack was taking care of him correctly. That made him feel even more … guilty, maybe? That was a lot of Phoenix resources spent on him when all he really needed was more sleep...

"Not dead, thanks to you." Was all Mac's still-groggy brain could produce.

"Eh, first license-threatening blood transfusion's free, the next one you'll have to do a lot of garden work to cover." She said, winking.

But, in a way, he was grateful. Even if there was no danger, it was nice to have his friends here. And it being sanctioned by their boss who almost certainly knew he was mostly fine made it even better. Contrary to popular belief, Matty knew how to balance hardassery with employee wellbeing. If something major and bomb-y came up, all bets were off, but for now, it seemed she would be okay with a few days off with people he'd weathered yet another hell with.

He settled into the idea as they all sat on Jack's couch and popped in the first of a passionately curated collection of Bruce Willis's greatest hits