If you thought the head trauma was bad
Author: NYWCgirl
Fandom: Macgyver 2016
Pairing: none
Characters: Angus Macgyver, Riley, Bozer, The Ghost
Warning/genre: hurt/comfort, explosions, bombs, the ghost, concussion, migraine, prompt no. 26, whumptober
Spoilers: none
Rating: Gen
Author's Notes: this fic was written for whumptober prompt nr. 26
Word Count: ~1320
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Mac needs to diffuse the bomb the ghost left him while he was caught in an earlier explosion. Alternate story and ending to Revenge + Catacombs + Le Fantome
This fic can be found on AO3
‘Go! Run! Now!’
Mac realizes he won´t be able to diffuse the bomb in time, so he grabs the lockers, pulling them over himself just as the bomb detonates. He can feel the pressure wave and it knocks him out for a second.
When the world comes back online, his ears are ringing and his vision is blurry. Great!
He notices movement. Someone is approaching him, he needs to do something, but his body doesn´t react to his brains commands. It is a man. But before he can react, he is knocked out.
* * *
‘Hello Mister Macgyver. I believe you’ve been looking for me. They call me the Ghost.’
Mac would like to respond but his head hurts too much. His brain seems to work at half the speed. He is definitely concussed. His ears still ring. The man starts talking again.
‘Mister Macgyver,’ when Mac moves he shows Mac that he is holding a detonator,‘ so you don´t get any ideas. I really must thank you.’
‘Thank me for what?’
‘For making me better. I’ve faced off against hundreds of EOD techs from all over the world. But none better than you. You’ve forced me to improve, to push myself. I’m sure that brain of yours is whirring away trying to figure out a way to disarm it.’
Mac doubts his brain can figure out anything at the moment. He tries to get his vision to straighten out.
‘I see you are a bit concussed, so I’ll spare you the thinking process. It’s ethylene oxide, propylene oxide and aluminum shavings. This is a fuel air bomb. Enough to level five city blocks.’
Mac tries to make sense of the words.
‘What? Why? There’s thousands of people up there.’
The nausea that is building, threatens to take a real hold. He fights the urge to vomit. It feels like his head is trying to escape his head.
‘You don´t look so good Mister Macgyver.’
Mac can no longer fight the nausea and he leans to the side to retch.
‘I think you have some head trauma Mister Macgyver, but don´t worry. You won’t live long enough for it to be a problem. Now it’s time for me to go. This is good-bye, mister Macgyver.’
Mac knows he needs to stall the man, maybe ask for his name, but his mouth is not really in sync with his brain.
‘My name is Connor. I can tell you since you won’t be hunting me, after this. You are going to die down here.’
Connor studies Mac, ‘it’s a shame, really. You see, I’ve hidden a bomb out there somewhere in the world. A bomb I built just for you. I was hoping you would find it one day, but c’est la vie.’
When Eileen enters the room, Mac closes his eyes, he can’t have this happening. He feels so awful, he curls into himself. That is until he hears a grunt and a body hitting the floor. He pries his eyes open and sees Connor laying on the floor next to him. This isn´t good but he tries to remember why and finally it hits him, the trigger. ‘Eileen, help me.’
But she leaves without looking back. The bomb! He needs to take care of it and he tries to get up, but the moment he gets to his hands and knees, bile rises in his throat.
‘Mac? Mac!’
Mac looks up at Bozer and Riley.
‘You look horrible. What happened?’
Mac would love to explain what happened if only he knew himself. What is happening? What are Riley and Bozer doing here?
‘Mac? Is this a bomb?’
Mac looks at Bozer.
‘Mac, did you hit your head?’
Mac nods, almost immediately regretting the movement.
‘If we lift the bomb, do you think you can disarm it?’
Mac nods, he is not sure of anything anymore but he needs to try. Riley and Bozer work together and are able to lift the bomb. Mac slowly slides under it, after being urged to do so. He has trouble focusing but eventually manages to disarm the bomb.
‘Mac?’
He hears someone calling out, but doesn´t seem to understand what they are saying. What is happening?’
He needs to do something, but he is not sure what.
‘Mac, you needs to get from underneath there.’
Why is he on his back on the floor. And why does he feel so bad? His head is killing him. And he needs to vomit. He rolls over and something thumps next to him to the ground.
‘Mac? Stay still, OK? We’re getting help.’
He doesn´t feel good, and he tries to tell them but he doesn´t feel that he starts to seize.
* * *
‘Mac, are you sure you are going to be OK?’
‘For the umpteenth time Bozer, I was discharged from the hospital so I could rest. I’m taking my medication and I’m resting. You don´t need to babysit me.’
‘OK, but I’ll be back soon. I’m just going in to do the prosthetics for the Bravo team.’
‘Fine, I just took my pills, so I am probably gonna sleep the rest of the afternoon.’
‘Take care.’
Bozer leaves the house and Mac leans against the counter. The headache is bad today. It is sitting on one side of his head. He guesses this is what a migraine must feel like. The lights seem too bright. He needs his bed. He lets go of the counter but a wave of dizziness washes over him. He swallows and slowly makes his way to the bedroom, leaning on the walls and furniture. He hates how he feels. He should tell someone about this, he is fairly sure he has post-concussion syndrome. Jack had it once and it took him weeks to recover from it. And what worries him, is the loss of concentration. It is probably temporary, but still.
He finally made it to his bed and gingerly crawls into it. His head feels like it is ready to split and tears build in his eyes. It hurts so bad he is ready to hit his head into a wall to get it over with. He knows he needs to calm down. He took medication, so if he is able to fall asleep, maybe it will be better when he wakes up.
But sleep eludes him, he needs to do something. He needs a doctor. Blindly he feels for his phone on the nightstand and only opens one eye to scroll through his contacts.
‘Medical.’
‘I need help.’ he whispers.
‘Mac?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Home.’
‘A team is on its way.’
Mac disconnects the call, curling in on himself.
Mac startles when the Phoenix medical team enters his bedroom.
‘Hey Mac, can you tell me what’s wrong?’
‘Headache.’
The medic takes Mac’s vitals.
‘We’re gonna take you with us to rule out a bleed, I’m giving you something for the pain, but it will make you drowsy.
Mac only nods, a proof on how bad he feels. The team quickly assesses him, injects a pain killer and loads him onto a gurney. The trip to medical happens in a blur.
* * *
Mac wakes and it takes a moment to orient himself? Phoenix medical. Last he remembered he was home. How did he end up here?
When doc Carl enters, he looks up.
‘What happened?’
‘What do you remember?’
‘I wouldn´t have asked if I knew what happened.’
‘You called us for help, you were experiencing a very bad headache. We brought you here to rule out any brain bleed, which we did. We are fairly certain you are suffering from post-concussion syndrome.
‘So, what is the verdict?’
‘You know the best we can do is manage your symptoms and you need to rest and take it easy.’
Mac nods.
‘It sucks, but it will get better with time.’
.
Fandom: Macgyver 2016
Pairing: none
Characters: Angus Macgyver, Riley, Bozer, The Ghost
Warning/genre: hurt/comfort, explosions, bombs, the ghost, concussion, migraine, prompt no. 26, whumptober
Spoilers: none
Rating: Gen
Author's Notes: this fic was written for whumptober prompt nr. 26
Word Count: ~1320
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: Mac needs to diffuse the bomb the ghost left him while he was caught in an earlier explosion. Alternate story and ending to Revenge + Catacombs + Le Fantome
This fic can be found on AO3
‘Go! Run! Now!’
Mac realizes he won´t be able to diffuse the bomb in time, so he grabs the lockers, pulling them over himself just as the bomb detonates. He can feel the pressure wave and it knocks him out for a second.
When the world comes back online, his ears are ringing and his vision is blurry. Great!
He notices movement. Someone is approaching him, he needs to do something, but his body doesn´t react to his brains commands. It is a man. But before he can react, he is knocked out.
* * *
‘Hello Mister Macgyver. I believe you’ve been looking for me. They call me the Ghost.’
Mac would like to respond but his head hurts too much. His brain seems to work at half the speed. He is definitely concussed. His ears still ring. The man starts talking again.
‘Mister Macgyver,’ when Mac moves he shows Mac that he is holding a detonator,‘ so you don´t get any ideas. I really must thank you.’
‘Thank me for what?’
‘For making me better. I’ve faced off against hundreds of EOD techs from all over the world. But none better than you. You’ve forced me to improve, to push myself. I’m sure that brain of yours is whirring away trying to figure out a way to disarm it.’
Mac doubts his brain can figure out anything at the moment. He tries to get his vision to straighten out.
‘I see you are a bit concussed, so I’ll spare you the thinking process. It’s ethylene oxide, propylene oxide and aluminum shavings. This is a fuel air bomb. Enough to level five city blocks.’
Mac tries to make sense of the words.
‘What? Why? There’s thousands of people up there.’
The nausea that is building, threatens to take a real hold. He fights the urge to vomit. It feels like his head is trying to escape his head.
‘You don´t look so good Mister Macgyver.’
Mac can no longer fight the nausea and he leans to the side to retch.
‘I think you have some head trauma Mister Macgyver, but don´t worry. You won’t live long enough for it to be a problem. Now it’s time for me to go. This is good-bye, mister Macgyver.’
Mac knows he needs to stall the man, maybe ask for his name, but his mouth is not really in sync with his brain.
‘My name is Connor. I can tell you since you won’t be hunting me, after this. You are going to die down here.’
Connor studies Mac, ‘it’s a shame, really. You see, I’ve hidden a bomb out there somewhere in the world. A bomb I built just for you. I was hoping you would find it one day, but c’est la vie.’
When Eileen enters the room, Mac closes his eyes, he can’t have this happening. He feels so awful, he curls into himself. That is until he hears a grunt and a body hitting the floor. He pries his eyes open and sees Connor laying on the floor next to him. This isn´t good but he tries to remember why and finally it hits him, the trigger. ‘Eileen, help me.’
But she leaves without looking back. The bomb! He needs to take care of it and he tries to get up, but the moment he gets to his hands and knees, bile rises in his throat.
‘Mac? Mac!’
Mac looks up at Bozer and Riley.
‘You look horrible. What happened?’
Mac would love to explain what happened if only he knew himself. What is happening? What are Riley and Bozer doing here?
‘Mac? Is this a bomb?’
Mac looks at Bozer.
‘Mac, did you hit your head?’
Mac nods, almost immediately regretting the movement.
‘If we lift the bomb, do you think you can disarm it?’
Mac nods, he is not sure of anything anymore but he needs to try. Riley and Bozer work together and are able to lift the bomb. Mac slowly slides under it, after being urged to do so. He has trouble focusing but eventually manages to disarm the bomb.
‘Mac?’
He hears someone calling out, but doesn´t seem to understand what they are saying. What is happening?’
He needs to do something, but he is not sure what.
‘Mac, you needs to get from underneath there.’
Why is he on his back on the floor. And why does he feel so bad? His head is killing him. And he needs to vomit. He rolls over and something thumps next to him to the ground.
‘Mac? Stay still, OK? We’re getting help.’
He doesn´t feel good, and he tries to tell them but he doesn´t feel that he starts to seize.
* * *
‘Mac, are you sure you are going to be OK?’
‘For the umpteenth time Bozer, I was discharged from the hospital so I could rest. I’m taking my medication and I’m resting. You don´t need to babysit me.’
‘OK, but I’ll be back soon. I’m just going in to do the prosthetics for the Bravo team.’
‘Fine, I just took my pills, so I am probably gonna sleep the rest of the afternoon.’
‘Take care.’
Bozer leaves the house and Mac leans against the counter. The headache is bad today. It is sitting on one side of his head. He guesses this is what a migraine must feel like. The lights seem too bright. He needs his bed. He lets go of the counter but a wave of dizziness washes over him. He swallows and slowly makes his way to the bedroom, leaning on the walls and furniture. He hates how he feels. He should tell someone about this, he is fairly sure he has post-concussion syndrome. Jack had it once and it took him weeks to recover from it. And what worries him, is the loss of concentration. It is probably temporary, but still.
He finally made it to his bed and gingerly crawls into it. His head feels like it is ready to split and tears build in his eyes. It hurts so bad he is ready to hit his head into a wall to get it over with. He knows he needs to calm down. He took medication, so if he is able to fall asleep, maybe it will be better when he wakes up.
But sleep eludes him, he needs to do something. He needs a doctor. Blindly he feels for his phone on the nightstand and only opens one eye to scroll through his contacts.
‘Medical.’
‘I need help.’ he whispers.
‘Mac?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Home.’
‘A team is on its way.’
Mac disconnects the call, curling in on himself.
Mac startles when the Phoenix medical team enters his bedroom.
‘Hey Mac, can you tell me what’s wrong?’
‘Headache.’
The medic takes Mac’s vitals.
‘We’re gonna take you with us to rule out a bleed, I’m giving you something for the pain, but it will make you drowsy.
Mac only nods, a proof on how bad he feels. The team quickly assesses him, injects a pain killer and loads him onto a gurney. The trip to medical happens in a blur.
* * *
Mac wakes and it takes a moment to orient himself? Phoenix medical. Last he remembered he was home. How did he end up here?
When doc Carl enters, he looks up.
‘What happened?’
‘What do you remember?’
‘I wouldn´t have asked if I knew what happened.’
‘You called us for help, you were experiencing a very bad headache. We brought you here to rule out any brain bleed, which we did. We are fairly certain you are suffering from post-concussion syndrome.
‘So, what is the verdict?’
‘You know the best we can do is manage your symptoms and you need to rest and take it easy.’
Mac nods.
‘It sucks, but it will get better with time.’
.