Cairo Day 2020- Day 3 - Traceur
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: Macgyver 2016
Pairing: none
Characters: Angus Macgyver, Jack Dalton, Bozer, Riley, Matty
Warning/genre: Friendship, Team as family, hurt/comfort, taken, injury
Spoilers: none
Rating: Gen
Author's Notes: This ficlet was written for Cairo day 3 - prompt was ‘This is going to hurt’
A traceur is a practitioner of parkour. A whiskey one is Ranger Special Operations Combat Medic
Word Count: ~ 485
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Maybe Parcour isn´t Mac’s thing
This fic can be found on AO3
The moment Mac realizes his jump isn´t going to end well, it is too late to do anything other than brace for impact. There is this short moment where he knows this is going to hurt, but then he smacks into the ground and instead of pain, there is only blackness.
* * *
‘Mac, buddy, you with me?’
The moment awareness reboots, the pain shoots through him. He can´t contain the moan when he tries to move.
‘Hold on, kid. You just had quite the tumble and you dislocated your shoulder. Can you open your eyes for me?’
Mac does as he is told and blinks against the sun.
‘What happened?’
‘I don´t know, one moment I am fighting off one of Marco´s men, the next you are impersonating a flying squirrel. Although your landing looked more like an Albatross’ landing. It would have been funny if you didn´t get hurt, bud.’
Mac grunts trying to sit up, ‘you need to set it, Jack, the longer you wait…’
‘I know, kid, this isn´t my first rodeo! Speaking of rodeo, did I ever tell you about…’
‘JACK!’
‘Right. There is a bench over there.’
Jack carefully helps Mac up and steadies him, while Mac loses all color in his face. It never stops to amaze Jack, how pale Mac can get. He then takes Mac to the bench, sitting him down horseback style and sitting himself facing Mac. It takes a moment for Mac to rest his hand from the effected shoulder on his. Mac looks weary, ‘this is going to hurt, isn´t it?’
‘Not at all hoss. Just relax and listen to my voice. Close your eyes.’
Jack starts to chat about his family and the ranch he grew up in and slowly massages Mac’s biceps up to the deltoid. When he can feel Mac relax, he gradually works his way up to the upper shoulder. He takes his time, not hurrying, keeping his voice pleasant and light. It takes some time but eventually Mac relaxes enough for the joint to pop right back in.
‘There, all done.’
‘Wow, that felt weird.’ Mac opens his eyes a bit dazed.
‘You mean when it popped back? Yeah, but it is pretty amazing, isn´t it?’
‘Yeah, where did you learn this?’
‘We had a whiskey one called Flash and he did this for me when an operation went south and I dislocated my shoulder, said it had to do with relaxing the muscles. All I know is, it doesn´t hurt.’
‘Well, thank him from me.’
Jack smiles sadly and Mac knows better than to ask. They understand each other without words when it comes to their army days.
‘OK kid, let’s get you to a hospital so you can get checked over.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Yeah, well, that shoulder needs to be immobilized, so…’
‘You’re right, let’s get to exfil and the hell out of here.’
.
Fandom: Macgyver 2016
Pairing: none
Characters: Angus Macgyver, Jack Dalton, Bozer, Riley, Matty
Warning/genre: Friendship, Team as family, hurt/comfort, taken, injury
Spoilers: none
Rating: Gen
Author's Notes: This ficlet was written for Cairo day 3 - prompt was ‘This is going to hurt’
A traceur is a practitioner of parkour. A whiskey one is Ranger Special Operations Combat Medic
Word Count: ~ 485
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Maybe Parcour isn´t Mac’s thing
This fic can be found on AO3
The moment Mac realizes his jump isn´t going to end well, it is too late to do anything other than brace for impact. There is this short moment where he knows this is going to hurt, but then he smacks into the ground and instead of pain, there is only blackness.
* * *
‘Mac, buddy, you with me?’
The moment awareness reboots, the pain shoots through him. He can´t contain the moan when he tries to move.
‘Hold on, kid. You just had quite the tumble and you dislocated your shoulder. Can you open your eyes for me?’
Mac does as he is told and blinks against the sun.
‘What happened?’
‘I don´t know, one moment I am fighting off one of Marco´s men, the next you are impersonating a flying squirrel. Although your landing looked more like an Albatross’ landing. It would have been funny if you didn´t get hurt, bud.’
Mac grunts trying to sit up, ‘you need to set it, Jack, the longer you wait…’
‘I know, kid, this isn´t my first rodeo! Speaking of rodeo, did I ever tell you about…’
‘JACK!’
‘Right. There is a bench over there.’
Jack carefully helps Mac up and steadies him, while Mac loses all color in his face. It never stops to amaze Jack, how pale Mac can get. He then takes Mac to the bench, sitting him down horseback style and sitting himself facing Mac. It takes a moment for Mac to rest his hand from the effected shoulder on his. Mac looks weary, ‘this is going to hurt, isn´t it?’
‘Not at all hoss. Just relax and listen to my voice. Close your eyes.’
Jack starts to chat about his family and the ranch he grew up in and slowly massages Mac’s biceps up to the deltoid. When he can feel Mac relax, he gradually works his way up to the upper shoulder. He takes his time, not hurrying, keeping his voice pleasant and light. It takes some time but eventually Mac relaxes enough for the joint to pop right back in.
‘There, all done.’
‘Wow, that felt weird.’ Mac opens his eyes a bit dazed.
‘You mean when it popped back? Yeah, but it is pretty amazing, isn´t it?’
‘Yeah, where did you learn this?’
‘We had a whiskey one called Flash and he did this for me when an operation went south and I dislocated my shoulder, said it had to do with relaxing the muscles. All I know is, it doesn´t hurt.’
‘Well, thank him from me.’
Jack smiles sadly and Mac knows better than to ask. They understand each other without words when it comes to their army days.
‘OK kid, let’s get you to a hospital so you can get checked over.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Yeah, well, that shoulder needs to be immobilized, so…’
‘You’re right, let’s get to exfil and the hell out of here.’
.