Walsh pointed a gun at his head, which was a move Mac fully anticipated.
“Give me the formula, or your boy dies,” ordered Jonah, and by the look on his dad’s face Mac really couldn’t discern what was going to happen. His dad nodded, but Mac guessed it was only to stall – he hoped his dad wouldn’t consider finishing this drug for real, not for him, not for anything; the consequences would be beyond measure. Mac tried to avoid looking at the blood splashes on the walls.
“Oh, you think you can outsmart me, James?” Suddenly, Jonah expression changed, and he lowered his gun, which made Mac suddenly more uneasy. Having a gun to his head, that was something he knew how to handle, it was something predictable. But the sudden pensive look in Walsh’s eyes? That made his skin crawl.
“You think I won’t shoot him?” Continued Jonah, slowly, dangerously. “Or maybe you don’t care after all? Maybe your goddamn logical brain has already calculated that a shot in the head is not the worst way to die in this world, maybe it’s a price worth paying for not giving me what I want? God knows that it wouldn’t be the first time you claim to do something in the name of greater good, MacGyver.”
Jonah flicked his hand towards Mac, which made his two goons grab the blond by the arms and throw him onto the nearest medical chair. The artificial leather was soaked with blood and sweat. Mac’s heart skipped a beat when the handcuffs were cruelly tightened around his wrists and ankles.
“What are you doing?!” It was nice to hear some change in his father’s voice, finally. “I’m going to need his help in the lab, if you want that drug so badly. God knows your men won’t be of any use to me!” Grumbled James, seemingly annoyed, but Mac dared to hope he heard some worry in his voice as well.
“No, no, no, you will have to manage on your own, if you want to save him. I know you, you’re resourceful, you can handle it. Do you really think I would be so stupid to have both of your big brains colluding against me in isolation? I learned a lot during our separation, James, but I’m sorry to notice you’re stuck right where you were.” Jonah clucked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head. “Anyway, I have him here to make sure you’re motivated to work on the drug, but I also need to make sure you’re motivated to finish it on time. We can’t fall even more behind the schedule, can we.”
Mac felt somebody grab his arm again; he tried to fight the grip as he saw the needle approaching his vein, but to no avail.
“Calm down, little Angus, we don’t want you to get hurt, not yet anyway,” tutted Jonah mockingly, then addressed James again: “Now, no need to panic, I won’t give him a full dose, obviously, it would kill him in a minute. We don’t need that.”
“Somehow I doubt you’ve got enough medical knowledge not to kill me,” hissed Mac though his teeth, eying the needle sticking from his vein furiously.
“James, what an insolent child you’ve raised!” Commented Jonah. “Oh wait, you didn’t, not really.” He shrugged. “In any case, Angus, my child, you’ll be getting the KX7 drop by drop, slowly, but steadily, and if your dear father hurries with his work, you might just get away without much damage. I think, to get it in you in full, it should take about… three hours, give or take.” Jonah made a show of looking pointedly at his watch. “James, I should advise you to hurry. I honestly have no idea what will happen to him, and when will it begin. Good luck, gentlemen!”
ONE AND A HALF HOUR LATER
THE SAME SHIT, THE SAME SHITHOLE
Mac slowly moved, changing his position by a bare minimum to provide some semblance of comfort. It didn’t help much, but at least he managed to scratch an itch on his hand in the process.
“I told you not to move, Angus!” Scolded him father in annoyance, wiping sweat off his face over the row of vials. “If you sit still, it will slow down the spreading of the drug!”
It wasn’t the first time James had said it, and it wasn’t as if Mac hadn’t known it before on his own account. Hearing it aloud again, as if he was a little kid to be pampered – and not, in fact, a soldier facing his own death – made his blood boil. He was too tired to shout, though.
“Oh shut up, would you,” Mac snapped instead. “I don’t need your goddamn advice, dad, not now, and not anymore. You’ve had your chances to teach me, and you’ve given them up, so now at least have the decency to be quiet!” He managed to raise his voice slightly at the end.
“Listen, Angus, it’s really not the time for a temper tantrum!” Reminded him James, still in the same tone of voice, the one that angered Mac so much.
And really, James could shove it. Mac didn’t need a reminder of their position, he was probably more aware of it than James himself. With every passing minute he was feeling the KX7 spreading in his veins, and the first symptom that came with it was heat. Mac’s clothes were wet and clung to his body as if somebody poured a bucket of water onto him. Several minutes later there was this dryness in his throat, it was the moment when James approached and gave him some water – it was also the moment when Mac first saw something resembling panic in his father’s eyes. Maybe because the effects became more and more visible, with the sweat on his face, and his pupils dilated to the maximum. Mac decided not to mention the ache in his chest that appeared about twenty minutes before and steadily grew stronger, but he couldn’t hide the fact that his head became too heavy for him to raise from the headrest.
Mac wondered briefly if there was even a tiny chance of being sent back to the world with the X-gene after dying here. But then again, he had died there as well, so he probably shouldn’t get his hopes up. Also, it wouldn’t count as a happy ending for him, since he would abandon his life here forever – and he really wasn’t looking forward to spending a lifetime without Jack at his side.
This thought suddenly terrified him more than the death itself.
Mac closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as another wave of heat hit him, making him dizzier than a minute before.
“Yeah, it’s not,” he admitted quietly. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts and overcome his pride. “Dad, I need you to do me a favor.”
With his eyes closed, Mac heard a sharp breath coming from the lab. Then his father cleared his throat, as if trying to compose himself.
“Angus, I’m trying to focus here, we don’t have the time for your sentiments, we can sort this out later.”
Mac would roll his eyes if he had any energy left in him.
“Jesus, just stop it. I know you’re not making the formula, and if I’m wrong and you really are, drop it immediately. I won’t be the cause of bringing something so terrible into existence. I’d rather die, and I know you’d rather I died than make it happen too, so just save it. You and I both know I won’t make out of here alive, so if you’re trying to pretend otherwise to give me hope, just don’t. But since there’s a vague possibility that you may live, I need you to shut up and listen to me.”
James sighed, giving up all pretense.
“I… I didn’t think he would actually do this, that he would harm you…” He admitted, completely defeated.
“Too late to ponder that now,” cut him off Mac. “Can I have that favor now?”
“What do you need?”
The dizziness came clashing like a tsunami, knocking Mac off his thoughts for a moment.
“I need…,” he tried, slowly, tiredly, “Bozer gets the house,” Mac murmured finally. “I don’t know how, just make it happen.”
“It belonged to your grandfather, are you really sure you…”
“Yes,” interrupted him Mac firmly, or as firmly as he was able to. “Riley gets my tech, whatever she deems useful, it’s hers. And Jack…”
Mac realized the wetness on his face wasn’t sweat anymore, it turned into tears he had no idea he was producing. It must have been the thought of never seeing Jack again, or of Jack never seeing him again, no doubt blaming himself for the rest of his life, even though there was nothing to be done. Mac wished he could stay for his sake, for the sake of sparing Jack the grieving, the loss, the loneliness.
There were so many things he wished to have said to Jack, there were so many moments in the previous year he had wasted, looking for his goddamn father, when he could be simply enjoying his life with Jack.
“Jack gets everything else.” Mac’s voice wavered, but his eyes were strong. His heart began beating faster and faster a few minutes ago, which made him realize he must hurry with his last will. “And I mean, everything. As a matter of fact, if he decides to quit, you will provide him with appropriate survivor’s pension.”
“Survivor’s pension is for spouses,” James put in not so gently.
“As I am aware, dad,” hissed Mac in reply. When they met in Afghanistan, Jack talked about getting back to Texas, starting his own small business. He stayed in this job for Mac, and if he chose to go back to his previous plans after Mac’s death, Mac would gladly help him in this endeavor. Even from the grave. “I didn’t call it a favor for nothing. If you want to pretend in front of yourself that you did any of this for me, that you left for me, that you protected me, then you will do this as well, you will promise me right now that my every goddamn thing and every goddamn penny goes to Jack Dalton, and that he will at least have some form of financial support from my side.”
“I don’t think he needs that,” observed James, his voice completely devoid of emotion, which Mac guessed was a defense mechanism of sort.
“I know he doesn’t.” Mac agreed. “But I’m not asking for his sake, I’m asking for mine.”
JACK DALTON’S SIDE
Jack wished he could have gotten through that wall sooner, but still he dared to hope Mac and James were somehow fine. But one look inside was enough to make him realize how mistaken he had been.
As soon as he got to Mac, he grabbed the younger man’s face in his hands, shaking him lightly in panic.
“Mac, wake up, Mac,” muttered Jack frantically, seeing no effect of his actions on Mac, the blond’s head simply rolled from one side to the other, completely limp. After a second, his eyelids fluttered, catching the sight of Jack.
“Jack,” mumbled Mac, relieved to see him and at the same time sad to make Jack watch his end. “Sorry to go first…”
Jack’s heart stopped beating as he realized what he was being told.
“No no no no no, Mac! You’ll be alright, buddy, don’t say stuff like that!” The soldier panicked, seeing Mac’s eyes stop moving, his eyelids closing and stilling.
“He won’t. His heart just gave up.” Came the voice from Jack’s left side, the voice that might not sound completely indifferent, but not despairing either.
“NO! How could you let that happen?!” Jack couldn’t care less about ‘sirs’ and positions at that moment, couldn’t care less about any kind of propriety when he clung to the motionless body of his partner, the body that was still cuffed to this horrible medical chair, the body that emanated way too much heat for it to be normal. “Mac! Mac, you need to wake up!” Jack shook Mac’s body again, putting his forehead on Mac’s in despair, in helpless, utmost fury. “Don’t stand here like that, call for help!” He yelled at James with all the power in his lungs.
“It’s too late for him, Dalton. This drug leaves no survivors.” James was quiet and mournful, yet still completely logical.
“No no no! It can’t be right!” Jack’s throat was sore from the shouting, but the rage inside his gut didn’t let him stop. “It can’t end like this! THIS IS NOT HOW THIS ENDS!”
“Dalton… Jack… I’m sorry.”
“Help me uncuff him!” Ordered Jack, not being able to handle Mac bound to the chair any minute longer. "Help me take them off him…” He wailed, tugging on the handcuffs.
And then he yelped, dropping the metal as soon as he touched it.
“What the hell…?!” He had burn marks on his fingers, he noticed, as he raised his hands to inspect them.
“What is it?” James came closer, suddenly curious.
“The handcuffs, they’re hot!”
“Well, Angus might have developed a fever in the last sta—“
“No, they are almost melting!” Cut him off Jack, impatient with the man. “Look closer!” Jack raised Mac’s arm as far as the short chain allowed it, and pointed to the metal around Mac’s wrists.
It was indeed melting from the inside.
“How do you explain that?!” Jack was incredulous.
James held his hand, then promptly retreated it, suddenly afraid of touching the cuffs.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but Jack, no matter what that is, Mac’s most certainly…”
The loud gasp silenced the words in James’ throat. Mac opened his eyes while taking a deep breath.
“Mac!”
“Son!"
Mac looked around, confused. Then he tried to raise his arms, but the cuffs stopped him. He glanced down on the chains around his wrists.
“I’ll… Let me…!” MacGyver Senior hustled to get something to open the lock.
“It’s alright,” stopped him Mac, and then, as if he willed it, the metal melted around his wrists, slowly dripping to the floor, damaging the sides of the chair in the process.
“I got plasma in my veins now,” he realized, smiling under his breath sharply. “I got it back.”
Jack had no idea what was going on, but understanding was never a priority for him. He took what was given, no questions asked, and so he grabbed Mac by the shoulders and hugged him tight, one hand on his back, the other in his hair, closer than he thought was possible.
Mysteries could be solved later – he had all that mattered right in his arms.
Mac hugged Jack back, but then stopped the upcoming wave of questions from his father with a raised hand.
“Now you wanna talk, dad? We’ll do this later.” He huffed dryly, but he had no energy to be angry anymore. The mixed emotions concerning his father were swiftly replaced by the sheer joy of having the missing part of himself back. After all these years, finally he was complete.
“I will take care of the facility,” decided Mac firmly. “This goddamn place needs to burn to the ground.”
“I already called Director Webber, she’ll send a special team to…”
“No,” interrupted him Mac, eying the building grimly. “Dad, Jack, go ahead, wait for me in a safe distance." He made a shooing motion with his hand.
“Wait are you going to do, Mac?” Asked Jack, but was ready to comply to the order, already taking a few steps away and nodding at James to do the same.
Mac held out both of his hands, pointing his open palms in the direction of the main lab. There was a dark, confident smile on his face, the one that Jack rarely saw – it was a smile that reminded Jack about all the things he still didn’t know about Mac.
Jack liked this smile nonetheless.
“Oh, I’m going to wreak some havoc here,” promised Mac and casually released two thick rays of plasma from his hands.
Alex Summers, also known as Angus MacGyver, was finally whole.