A/N This time, my sincere gratitude goes out to fanotheboyz for her wonderful input and medical knowledge! :-) I hope you all enjoy this latest installment! The next chapter will be ALL ABOUT Mac&Jack, I promise!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MacGyver and Nick made quick work of digging down to the coffin; they used a fire extinguisher from Nick's trunk to kill the fire ants—irony at its finest; then Mac walked the CSI through the process of helping him disarm two, yes, two booby traps set by none other than Murdoc but reminiscent of the Ghost… which would surely give Mac pause later on. But not now. Not tonight.

Because tonight, at long last, MacGyver finally had his best friend back. They hauled Jack out of the glass-walled coffin and, steadfastly ignoring the understandably ripe funk currently emanating from the guy, Mac pulled him straight into a bone crushing hug! Oddly, his partner stiffened within his embrace, weakly pushing against his hold and trying to pull away.

Seeing his error, MacGyver instantly released him. Clearly, Jack came to realize what Mac had known all along…

The kidnapping, the premature burial, the fire ants—every single bit of the last day and a half, not to mention the horrors Jack had likely suffered which Mac had not been made privy to yet, was the fault of none other than Angus James MacGyver.

"Hey, man," Nick tried. "I'm sure he didn't mean—"

Before the CSI could finish the platitude, Jack collapsed to his knees, then fell forward into the dirt.

"Jack!" Mac and Nick both called out simultaneously.

MacGyver dropped down next to his friend, unsure where to touch. Marks where the ants had stung coloured every exposed piece of flesh that Mac could see. Usually, a fire ant wouldn't be able to cause too much damage unless the victim ended up being allergic, which was more likely if they had been stung previously. As Jack's partner, it was Mac's responsibility to know his medical history backwards and forwards, and he could not recall any incident involving fire ants.

So, it had to be the sheer number of stings that was causing the problem. Each ant carried within it a certain amount of poison, which was transferred into its victim with each sting. Judging by the welts on Jack's skin, he'd been stung hundreds of times—and that was just the ones Mac could see.

"Call 9-1-1," he ordered, barely glancing up at Nick as he gathered his friend up off the ground and leaned him back against his chest.

"It'll take too long for an ambulance to get all the way up here…" Nick started. "Hold on, I got an epi pen up in the truck. I'll be right back!" Without another word, he took off up the slope to where the Denali was parked.

Meanwhile, Mac held onto Jack who was twitching so badly he was nearly vibrating out of his arms. Thankfully, he wasn't coherent enough to realize who was holding him because Mac didn't think he could handle another rejection just then.

Jack had always been the somewhat touch-feely part of their particular equation, always ready to hug it out when he felt it was necessary. MacGyver on the other hand, well, he just hadn't been brought up in an environment where men were so open with their emotions.

Ironic that, with Mac's emotions hovering so close to the surface and in danger of erupting altogether, now would be the time that Jack was the one who was emotionally unavailable.

A few minutes passed, and Nick still hadn't returned with the epi pen. "Nick?!" Mac called out, eyes scanning the darkness on the road several feet above him. He couldn't see the truck from his current position, and he certainly wasn't going to let Jack go so he could get up to check, but he knew it wasn't far enough away that Nick wouldn't hear him.

He grabbed the two-way radio sitting on the ground a few feet away from him, and was just about to push the call button when a new, entirely unexpected voice, broke through the darkness.

"Sorry, Mac. Your new friend isn't able to answer you right now."

Mac froze. It had been a long time since he'd heard his name uttered from those lips. "Nikki?" he asked, looking back up the slope in time to see Nikki Carpenter step out of the shadows. His heart leapt a little bit at the sight of her, memories flooding back like no time had passed… then his heartrate increased for a completely different reason when he saw the Sig Sauer in her hand.

His eyes snapped up to meet hers—blue on blue. "What's going on?" he asked haltingly, gaze flicking to the road behind her as she descended the slope, pistol held steady.

Nikki smiled fondly. "Ah, Mac, your trusting nature is so endearing. It's one of the many reasons I fell in love with you." The smile dropped from her face, the warmth in her eyes plummeting several degrees as they took in the figure still in Mac's embrace. "But you just didn't love me back, did you?"

"Clearly, I loved you a little too much," MacGyver snarked, his mask of indifference smoothly slipping into place. "Because I fell for your lies… again."

"You didn't love me enough, Mac! Not enough to leave with me?"

"Leave? Leave where? L.A.?"

"L.A. DXS. Everything. Even after Thornton was arrested, not once did you ask to come with me, Mac."

"I couldn't. I have a life here—"

"You mean, you have Jack here."

MacGyver glanced down at his partner, still twitching, breathing becoming more and more laboured by the second. "Nikki, please. Where's Nick? He's got an epi pen that can—"

"You're supposed to be a genius, Mac. Why haven't you figured this out yet? Nick isn't coming down here with an epi pen to save Jack. Riley isn't going to pull through back at Cedar Sinai. And there's a little surprise waiting for Bozer when he returns home to mourn her passing."

Mac couldn't speak. He pulled Jack a little bit closer, wishing his friend would wake up and help him—because, Mac had to admit it, he was very close to losing it just then. Jack? Riley? Bozer? Even dad? All of this was because of Nikki? Then it all clicked into place. "You are with The Organization. And Thornton?"

Nikki shrugged. "She was getting a little too close for comfort, so we used her investigation against her." Gaze beseeching now, Nikki's blue eyes bore into Mac. "There's still time. They still want you to join them. We can be together again, Mac. Just like old times."

"Not a chance. You think I would want to be with you after you've killed all my friends? After you've betrayed me? Again!"

The hope in her eyes quickly morphed into hatred as she returned her attention to Jack. "I haven't killed all your friends yet," she said, cocking her gun. "Maybe once dear ol' Jack isn't around to bad mouth me, you'll remember how good we were together."

"No! Wait! I'll go with you! Just don't kill him!"

She studied him closely. "You're a horrible liar," she told him, as she advanced on them, Sig Sauer aimed point-blank at Jack. At that trajectory, the bullet would hit Jack at centre mass. There was no way he'd be able to survive that shot.

Mac scrambled to get the gun out from beneath his waistband at the small of his back. Jack's Glock. He whipped it out and took quick aim at his former girlfriend; he didn't even have time to think, not that any thought would have changed his decision.

BANG!

Grissom was out of the truck before Warrick had pulled to a complete stop. In the glow of the headlights, lay Nick Stokes. And, dang, if that sight didn't ignite the kind of borderline devastation Gil Grissom had never felt before. The only anchor keeping him on this side of the devastation was the fact that he didn't yet know for sure that Nick was indeed dead.

Warrick left the engine still running and the headlights on. He and Gil dropped at Nick's side. Gil immediately felt for a pulse and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he detected the lub-dub beneath his finger tips.

"Nicky?" Warrick asked. "Hey, man, can you hear me?" Neither he nor Grissom could see any obvious wound, and no puddle of blood pooled beneath him. That was good news. But why wasn't he responding? He gently probed through Nick's short-cropped hair and soon hit pay-dirt when his fingers brushed against a large gash on the back of his friend's skull.

The sudden pain seemed to bring Nick almost to consciousness but he was groggy to say the least.

Seeing that his youngest CSI would likely be okay, Grissom went into law enforcement mode. His gaze began to survey the scene around them. "Where's MacGyver?" he asked. Then he saw the epi pen just inches away from Nick's outstretched hand. Gut churning with dread, he grabbed the pen off the ground. "Get him into the truck," he told Warrick.

"Where are you goin'?" Warrick asked the older man, not much surprised when he didn't get a response. With Nick out of immediate danger, that made any good mystery fair game for Gil Grissom's clue gathering skills.

Sighing with fondness for his former boss, Warrick's gaze found Nick's face and saw unfocused eyes staring up at him. "Hey, bro," he said, smiling widely. "You took quite a knock to the head there; can you walk?" The withering glare told him all he needed to know and Warrick chuckled. "Okay, okay," he said, helping Nick to his feet—and then catching him and gathering him against his chest when the smaller CSI's legs buckled under his weight. In the glow of the headlights, Warrick saw the tinge of pink on his friend's cheeks. "No worries, buddy. We'll just take it nice and slow."

"Warrick!"

The tone in Grissom's voice told both CSI's that something was wrong. As if suddenly remembering why he was out there in the first place, panic shone in Nick's eyes as he started to stumble towards the slope that led down to the large oak tree.

Warrick braced a hand on his friend's chest, stopping him easily in his tracks. "No way, man," he said sternly, earning a more heated glare this time.

"Ge' outta m' 'ay, 'arrick," Nick slurred, knocking the steadying hand off his chest. But when he took another step toward the slope, his legs gave out again.

Warrick caught him just before he face-planted. "Hey, you'll be no good to anyone if you fall on your ass and can't get back up again," he chastised. But Nick wasn't listening to reason, confirming Warrick's likely concussion diagnosis.

Casting a quick glance over his shoulder at the passenger side door Grissom had left standing open, Warrick quickly leaned down and scooped his friend up into his arms. Sensing the mortification, he muttered softly, "Don't worry, Nicky. No one's around to see this; it'll be between you an' me, bro."

After settling a still blushing and irate Nick into the seat Grissom had occupied a few moments earlier, Warrick fastened the seatbelt at his friend's hip, then locked the door and closed it—counting on the concussion to hinder any escape plan Nick might come up with.

Stubborn partners sufficiently deterred, Warrick turned and darted down the slope.

The first thing he saw was the dead young woman in the centre of the clearing, next to a freshly dug grave, Sig Sauer laying a few feet away from her.

Sitting off to the right of the body was Nick's friend, MacGyver. A Glock, which had been discarded on the ground at his hip, was currently being examined by Grissom—eyes only, though. The kid was holding a twitching man protectively against his chest, but his seriously haunted gaze was locked on the woman. Warrick got the distinct feeling that MacGyver not only knew this woman but had also felt quite strongly for her.

That was when Warrick's gaze took in the face of the man bundled up in MacGyver's arms, and he froze mid-step. He glanced back up the slope to where he knew Nick was waiting in the truck, then back at the man who could only be the one this whole case was centred around. What the — ?

"I know," Grissom said, kneeling at MacGyver's side. "Agent Dalton's resemblance to our Nick is uncanny, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Warrick whispered, unable to believe how alike Nick and his cousin were in their outward appearance. His cousin? His twin was more like it.

A moment later, he went into CSI mode, gaze darting about the scene before them. "So," he stood next to the body of the dead woman on the ground, "this young lady knocks Nick out from behind, then comes down here, aiming the gun at MacGyver and Agent Dalton; and MacGyver shoots her? Looks like self defense to me, Gris."

"I agree, but we still have to follow the evidence," Grissom replied, casting a sympathetic glance at MacGyver, then indicated the fire extinguisher laying in the shadows next to the trunk of the tree. "Nobody's talking yet but judging by that extinguisher, the swelling on Agent Dalton's flesh, and the dead fire ants littering the ground, I'd have to say the ants got into the coffin and began attacking the man they believed was invading their territory."

Warrick winced. "Poor guy; buried alive and bitten by hundreds of fire ants!?"

"Stung, actually," Grissom corrected. At Warrick's look, he explained, "Fire ants don't bite. They sting. It's a common misconception," he shrugged dismissively.

"Stung, bitten; it don't much matter, they were still attackin' the poor guy and he had no where to go to escape them."

"Touché," Grissom said, then held up the epi pen. "I already administered the epinephrine. I just hope it was fast enough. It's supposed to be given immediately after the sting."

Jack twitched again. "Do we have another pen in the truck?" Warrick asked.

"Maybe," Gil responded thoughtfully. "But…" he moved to shift Jack out of MacGyver's hold but the blond refused to release him. "MacGyver," he tried, his tone gentle but urgent. No response.

"What is it, Gris?"

"I think there may still be ants beneath his clothing!"

Warrick stepped closer, intending to pry MacGyver's arms from around his charge, only to have the blond growl an intense warning to stay away.

"I got this."

Warrick and Grissom looked up to see Nick nearly fall down the slope; both were relieved to see him keep his balance instead of face planting into the oak tree. Warrick took one glance at Nick's cousin, then the blond he had clearly become quite protective of over the past six hours, and he didn't even bother trying to figure out how his partner had managed to work past a no doubt serious concussion to make his way down here.

Jack Dalton was family; and MacGyver was very close to becoming the newest member. 'Nuff said.

Grissom stepped aside, and he and Warrick watched as Nick ignored the second growled protest, resolutely invading the kid's personal space and crouching down in front of him to frame the pale face between both his hands. "Mac!" he said firmly. "You need to let him go, buddy."

The panicked blue eyes finally took in his presence. Mac shook his head, unknowingly freeing one tear with the jerked movement. Nick caught the tear with the pad of his thumb but the kid still didn't seem to notice—He's in some serious shock, Nick thought to himself. Offering up a sad smile, he said, "There might still be ants on him, man."

Mac looked down at Jack, then back at Nick, gauging his honesty.

"Just let my friends take a look at him, okay?" Nick pleaded softly.

As soon as Mac nodded, Grissom and Warrick stepped forward again. Grissom took hold of Jack's legs, while Warrick gripped him beneath his arms; together, they lifted him out of MacGyver's embrace.

Even though he'd agreed, Mac still reached out for his friend, a choked sob escaping him as they moved his partner several feet away.

Unable to keep his balance any longer, Nick plopped back onto his rear, then pulled Mac back to rest against his chest. He wrapped his arms around the slender form, trying to offer as much comfort as he could while the other two CSI's worked Jack's clothes off him, swiping at the lingering, angry fire ants as soon as they became visible.

Once they were done, Grissom returned to their Denali for a large blanket then rushed back and helped Warrick wrap it around a traumatized Jack Dalton. Warrick then folded him over his shoulders and carried him up to the road.

No encouragement was needed to get Mac to follow. He only paused for a moment to look down at the young woman on the ground, before making his way up the slope.

Grissom helped Nick to his feet, keeping one arm around his back, and his free hand against his chest as they followed.

Watching as Warrick administered a second epi pen to Jack, Grissom sat Nick down in the front passenger seat of Warrick's truck, wrapping a blanket over his shoulders. Warrick did the same with MacGyver. Then Grissom called police from the next town over to come guard the scene.

The original plan was for Warrick to take Nick, Jack, and MacGyver in his truck so that the three men could get medical attention as soon as possible; meanwhile, Grissom would stay behind and use Nick's truck to return with the young woman's body after the scene was secured.

However, the woman in question had been determined that no one be able to escape her clutches, because she'd rendered Nick's truck inoperable by tearing out the spark plugs and slashing all four tires. Apparently, she had lived by the credo 'Go big, or go home'.

While Grissom and Warrick were deciding on which of them would stay behind to wait for the local uni's, a patrol car pulled up beside them. The cop explained he'd been just around the corner at a speed trap, so he was able to get there before his colleagues.

So, Warrick laid the young woman's body in the back-storage compartment of his SUV, placing a blanket over top to keep the view from haunting MacGyver who was insistent on staying in the backseat with his partner and could easily see the storage area from his position.

Not wanting to leave Nick on his own, either, Grissom took up residence in the second row of seats. Sensing what his mentor was up to, Nick's pride had him trying to resist Warrick's efforts to maneuver him from the front to the second row.

His fumbling movements did little to encumber Warrick's more solid strength, though, and Nick soon found himself sitting next to Grissom. His gaze shifted to the seat behind them, falling on Jack who was still twitching and murmuring nonsensical words in MacGyver's arms. He'd been able to compartmentalize his pain at seeing his cousin in so much agony, a trained skill he had learned from years of practice.

But his concussion had those buried emotions hovering very close to the surface, and he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. A warm hand suddenly cupped his jaw, urging his gaze away from the view in the back and onto Grissom. The compassion in the other man's eyes nearly broke him. "He's going to be okay, Nick."

Not trusting his voice in that moment, Nick simply nodded with a confidence he didn't feel…

And Grissom saw right through it. His grip moved to the back of Nick's neck and, being extra careful of the wound on his scalp, he began to tug him across the bench seat. The younger investigator's eyes darted to MacGyver in the row behind them, whose laser focus was on Jack in that moment; then he glanced into the front seat to see Warrick was concentrating intently on the road ahead of him. Possibly too intently; as if he knew what was happening, without even looking.

Nick felt another tug forward. He locked eyes with Grissom, resisting the pull with all the energy he had left, jaw muscle pulsing in his determination to keep the tears at bay. Grissom was like a father to him; if he leaned into the comfort the other man was offering, he'd lose all control over the emotions swirling inside him. They'd found Jack in time. Nick should be happy! Why wasn't he happy?

He continued to resist Grissom's pull but he was still weak and a little dizzy from the hit to the head. Then Grissom moved forward, slipping his arms around Nick's shoulders and back, holding him tight. The younger CSI was dismayed to find his own arms tangled up in the blanket which was still wrapped tightly over his shoulders, leaving with no mode of defense as Grissom leaned back against the door, not letting go of Nick for a moment. Before Nick knew what was happening, he was curled up on the seat with his face buried in Grissom's chest and shoulder.

"He's gonna be okay, Nick," Grissom whispered. He left the 'I'm concerned about you' unsaid, but Nick heard it anyway. And that concern is what finally made it through his defenses, as the first tears came free and he shook silently in his mentor's arms.

Grissom and Warrick exchanged knowing glances in the rearview mirror. Of all the team, Nick was the most sensitive and empathetic, but over the years, he had grown ashamed of his tenderness, and these days always strove to bury his emotions down deep until he could deal with them in private. But, sometimes, a compassionate shoulder was needed to make the healing process complete.

TBC

A/N 2 Next chapter is written, just needs to be beta'd. Hopefully will be posted tonight or tomorrow morning. :-) LOTS of Mac&Jack h/c!