by Cindy Combs
Dying alone had never been something Blair had ever thought about before. His own, thankfully brief, death had been more or less alone. Yet it had happened so fast. His thoughts had focused solely on the struggle, then on trotting in the jungle as a wolf until Jim's panther arrived to drag his soul back to the land of the living. In fact, most of his close calls had happened so swiftly, thoughts of dying were drowned out with thoughts of how to stay alive. Somehow, death had become entwined with fast and violent, mostly likely in a daring bid to stop another evil foe, quite possibly with Jim dying beside him. To die slowly, painfully alone had never crossed his mind.
But it had apparently crossed Mac's. Was that partly why Mac worried more about Sam? His father knew that with Jim guarding his back, not only was Blair less likely to die, but that when the time came, he would not die alone. Yet Sam had no backup, no safety net, no one to watch his back as he strove to uncover the injustices of the world. Just like his parents before him, Sam went into battle alone.
No, that wasn't quite true. Just as MacGyver always had his good friend Pete Thornton backing him, Sam had both his father's and his brother's love supporting him as he went out into the world. His brother would never be truly alone as long as MacGyver and Blair lived. Even Jim supported Sam, his faith in the young man even stronger than his own blood kin.
Blair's hand tightened around his cell phone. He wanted to talk to Jim, to hear his older friend's voice telling him that Sam would survive and to keep his hopes up. But a long day of controlling his senses without his guide nearby had most likely worn out the sentinel. A call at 1 am would only interrupt his much needed sleep, possibly effecting that control later in the day. Only if Blair had definitely news would he disturb his friend, no matter how good that voice would sound.
~Click~
Blair turned away from the glass, all thoughts driven away as he focused on listening. The faint sounds of the front door opening, then soft steps into the kitchen sent Blair into action. Grabbing the hockey stick next to Mac's workbench, Blair crept forward to confront the intruder. As the dark figure sneaked towards him, Blair reached for the light switch as he raised the stick. With a flick of the wrist, the hallway filled with light.
"AUGH!"
"SAM?" Blair lowered the stick, rubbing his watering eyes.
Blinking in the light, the lanky young man in a torn up jacket peered down at the shorter, unexpected figure. "Blair? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Cascade?"
"I've been keeping Dad company while you've been scaring him to death," Blair pointed out, exasperated.
"Huh?"
"SAM!" Before either could turn, Mac was there, enveloping his younger son in a bear hug.
"OW! Dad, watch it!"
Instantly, Mac stepped back at Sam's sharp cry. "Where are you hurt?"
"Cracked my collarbone. Nothing too bad," Sam explained breathlessly, holding his right arm that was tucked inside his jacket.
"Yeah, right," Blair commented with a roll of his eyes. He guided his brother to the couch, then watched as Mac gingerly helped Sam remove his jacket. "Looks like someone has worked on you," pointing at the sling.
Sam nodded, his face still drawn and pale from pain. "Yeah, a Russian doctor. He suggested I get it X-rayed once I got back to the States." Sam yawned as his father checked him for other injuries.
"How did you get back?" MacGyver asked. "We've had feelers out for you with no luck."
"Even that CNN crew didn't know what had happened to you," Blair added, gently checking his brother's forehead for fever.
"Things got pretty confusing there for a while. Once the bombs stopped falling, I found myself in with a small group of refugees. We managed to cross the border into Dagestan after a bit of a wait. One of the ladies lent me her husband's old coat, so the soldiers didn't realize I wasn't Russian. Once across, I ran into this old man who took one look at me, then announced I was his old friend MacGyver's son. Felt like I'd been struck by lightening -- I hadn't even told him my name. Before I knew it, he had my shoulder taken care of and his friends had somehow managed to get me on a flight to LA."
"Did the old man say his name?" Mac questioned.
Sam yawned again. "Said something about you and Nikki and a top secret plane, and that you helped him to defect or something." In spite of his exhaustion, a sly smile managed to lift his mouth. "Also asked if you two had gotten married yet."
Blair laughed as Mac shook his head. "Starkoss, it has to be. I can't believe he's still alive."
"Well, he said something about having to get me home before Christmas Eve."
Blair lifted an eyebrow at his father's grim face. "Starkoss considered himself a psychic," Mac vaguely explained.
"Well, he did get Sam here by Christmas Eve," Blair pointed out.
"What day is it?" Sam yawned again.
"Christmas Eve morning," Blair replied with a huge grin. "Welcome home, bro." He then gave Sam a gentle hug, careful of the shoulder. MacGyver laid his hands on their heads, whispering thanks to have them both safe.
Afternoon,, December 24th, MacGyver's apartment
Blair leaned against the railing, taking in the ocean view as he talked on his cell phone. "Yeah, flight 347. Do you think you can pick me up?"
"Not a problem, Chief," Jim answered. "Though we may have to head for the station instead of the loft."
"That's fine. Though weren't you going to meet Steven somewhere for Christmas dinner?"
"That's not until 7. Sure you don't want to come, too?"
"We'll see if I'm still awake. It's been a wild couple of days."
"How is Mac and Sam doing?"
"Sam's on the couch, sleeping off the pain meds. Boy, does he have some stories to tell! I'm just glad his collarbone is only cracked."
"Yeah, but that hurts enough," Jim pointed out. "Has Mac come out of his depression?"
"He was finally working his way out of it yesterday evening, but Sam's arrival made it disappear. His cold is better, too. He's poking around in the kitchen right now, making something for tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Yeah, apparently the mother of some friends is having a big dinner and invited us. Ought to be interesting."
"Why? Because you haven't attended too many Christmas Eve dinners?" Jim asked with a chuckle.
"No," Blair replied with a smile. "Apparently, the Coltons are bounty hunters. Between them and Mac, I'm sure I'll be hearing some great stories."
"Bounty hunters? How does Mac... never mind. Just watch yourself."
"I'll be fine, Jim. It's Mac who may regret this once I get all the embarrassing stories out of Mama Colton."
Jim laughed. "Well, have fun partner, because tomorrow you're back to work."
"You just watch yourself today." Blair paused. "And Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Chief."
As Blair folded up the phone, MacGyver stepped outside to join him. Silently, they both looked across the ocean for several moments. Then, MacGyver softly whispered, "Thanks, Blair. Thanks for coming."
Blair turned to face him, a smile on his face. "Well, I hadn't expected to spend my first Christmas with my Dad's family this year, but I think it has all turned out well."
MacGyver glanced down. "Next time, let's do without all the worry and despair."
"Yeah, I'll agree to that," Blair chuckled. "Let's also see if we can do it without one of us being abducted or in trouble."
"Amen to that, though I'm beginning to wonder if that's possible." Mac took a breath, then stared deep into his son's eyes. "I'm really sorry I went off the deep end like that. I'm not sure what happened."
Blair grew serious, picking up on his father's mood. "You were sick and scared and worried about Sam. Under the circumstances, it's understandable."
"Well, I appreciate you coming down to keep me from sinking too low."
A slow smile stretched across Blair's face. "As Harry used to say, I'm in this for the long haul, Dad. I'm here whenever you
need me."
"Me, too," Mac returned before pulling his son into a hug.
The End