A/N Sorry for the delayed chapter... but this is the longest one for this story so far! I hope that makes up at least a little bit for the delay? I've actually been finishing up the edits for my book, which was just published TODAY! :-D

A/N 2 I thought this would be the final chapter, but there are still a few loose ends I want to tie up. However, in the interest of not making you wait any longer for an update, I'm posting this morning. The final chapter may end up being quite a bit shorter and more like an Epilogue, but you never know. :-) Anyway, without further ado...

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MacGyver eased into wakefulness the next morning to the sound of a drum beating steadily in his ear. Despite the fact that he was stretched out on one of the hotel's luxurious king size beds—with absolutely no memory of how he got there—he felt oddly… secure.

Then the bed moved beneath him. As far as he could remember they hadn't requested a room with water beds. If he hadn't already opened his eyes, Mac would have been left with the distinct impression that he was still asleep, possibly dreaming about being adrift at sea.

A wave of nausea suddenly swept over him, and it had nothing to do with sea sickness. Because, in that moment, he remembered his meltdown the night before. Falling apart. Tears streaming down his face. Sobbing in Jack's arms.

As those fragments of memory fell into place, other facts also presented themselves.

Like the fact that Jack's right arm was encircling his back, holding him close into his side—protective even in sleep. MacGyver's head was resting on his shoulder and chest, and the sound of his partner snoring came from directly above his head.

The flush of embarrassment crept up Mac's throat and burned his cheeks with self-recrimination. But his mortification was quickly replaced by a deep, unadulterated sadness, mixed with an equally profound joy.

His father was dead. Frankie was dead. Nikki was dead.

But Jack was most definitely alive. Riley was recovering in Cedar Sinai. Bozer hadn't been blown up in the home he and Mac shared.

He felt the tightness welling up into his chest, but was unable to discern if it was caused by the sadness or the joy. The conflicting emotions were overwhelming. Suffocating. He covered his mouth with one hand to drown out the sob as it seeped past his defenses.

Not wanting to wake Jack, and also needing space to pull himself together so that he wouldn't need to face a repeat of the night before, MacGyver gently eased his friend's arm off his shoulders and carefully made his way over to the opposite side of the bed.

Still feeling the effects of the past few days, not to mention the exhaustion of his emotional outburst just hours before, MacGyver barely had enough energy to make it across the room. But as he slumped down to sit with his back against the wall his gaze landed on his sleeping partner. It really shouldn't have surprised him when he was unable to tear his eyes away.

Jack was alive. Murdoc had failed. Nikki had failed.

Another sob escaped, this one definitely laden with relief, but also tinged with the painful combination of 'what-ifs' and 'what-could've-beens'.

He'd come so close to losing his best friend forever! And what about Frankie? He'd always been too shy, too afraid of rejection, too certain that his admission would ruin their friendship. But now, he was left with the knowledge that he would never really know for sure. What he did know was that Frankie would have been ten-thousand-times better than Nikki in the 'stable relationship' department.

His mind took him back in time without his permission —

"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!

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Mac rested his forehead on top of them, crossing his arms around his stomach against the physical pain he was feeling. He wiped angrily at the tears in his eyes before they had a chance to fall. What was wrong with him? He'd always been able to keep such a tight rein on his emotions—

Mac jumped when a calloused hand landed on the back of his neck. "You okay, brother?" Jack's tired voice asked.

He looked up to find Jack sitting down next to him, somewhat mirroring his position with legs bent up and one arm resting on his knees. Mortified, the blond groaned and made a desperate, yet exhausted attempt to shrug off the undeniably comforting touch, but Jack simply hauled him back, cinching him into his side.

"Jack—" Mac blushed when the word came out more as a whimper than demand.

"You seriously think one night of release was enough? It don't work like that, bud. In fact, after what you went through, I wouldn't be surprised if you needed another several hours of tears and talking before the healing really starts to take hold."

MacGyver bit his lip, keeping his face downcast, away from his friend's all-too-knowing gaze, trying desperately to regain control. To stop the friggin' tears from falling! Suddenly, he felt Jack's hand slip through and cup his chin, firmly tilting his face up so he could get a better look at him. Mac promptly squeezed his eyes shut against the scrutiny.

"Look at me," Jack said, gently wiping Mac's tears off his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "Look at me," he repeated, this time as an order with absolutely no wiggle room.

No matter how hard he tried, Mac just couldn't ignore that tone, taking him back to working as an EOD specialist with Jack as his CO. So, he opened his eyes and, once again, Jack knocked his own walls down, allowing a view of everything he was feeling… and at the top of that list was his blatant love for MacGyver.

The love he'd always longed for from his father.

"Shhhh," Murdoc insisted, as if he were sitting in a movie theater, eating popcorn and drinking soda—and how disturbing was it to think that maybe he was doing just that? "You're gonna miss the best part!"

Another camera snapped into focus, showing James from a different angle as he picked up the photo of himself and Mac on their fishing trip. He stared down at the picture wistfully.

The video suddenly switched to slow motion…

The living room window shattered. "No!" Mac shouted, jolting so hard that his feet thumped heavily against the floorboards of the GTO. Eyes wide with shock, he was able to do nothing but watch helplessly as his father slowly crumpled to the floor. The blood spread across his shirt at an alarming speed, even while in slow motion.

Seconds later, the screen split, showing the two feeds simultaneously. The second camera quickly zoomed in, seemingly on its own, zeroing in on James MacGyver's sightless eyes!

Mac was biting his lip so hard now, so desperate to keep the deluge at bay, that one tooth pierced the skin. He could feel the blood sliding down his chin but couldn't bring himself to care.

"Stop it, Mac!" Jack ordered, both palms framing MacGyver's face now. "Stop fighting this, bro. You're hurting yourself!"

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

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

Mac scrambled to get the gun out from beneath his waistband at the small of his back…

BANG!

Still cupping one side of Mac's face with his left hand, Jack moved his right up to push the damp blond strands up off the flushed forehead. The kid was trying so hard to stay in control, he was literally working up a sweat. A fevered sweat, at that. Not healthy. Not healthy, at all.

The night before, Jack had pushed his friend into opening up; held onto him until he gave in to the emotional smorgasbord coursing through him. This time, it had to be Mac's choice. But MacGyver had spent the past 15 to 20 years of his life certain that he had to be the strong one all the time. How did you convince a guy with that kind of conditioning that it was okay to be vulnerable once in a while?

"It's killin' me to see you like this, kid," he said softly. "Please, don't do this to me. Just let go… please!"

Mac clenched his teeth against the temptation to do as Jack asked, to just let himself go. Because, to be honest, part of him was tired of holding it all in. But a larger part was terrified of the repercussions of showing that kind of vulnerability.

He shook his head, his next words floating out on a whisper of air. "I can't, Jack. What if it doesn't stop? What if—?"

"I'll stay with you for as long as it takes, brother," Jack said faithfully, framing Mac's face with both hands again.

Jack had more than earned MacGyver's trust over the years. But the past few days had put doubts in Mac's mind—not in Jack but in humanity… in himself!

"My mom didn't stay," Mac choked out. "Nikki didn't stay. My own father didn't even stick around. Why would you?"

The hurt MacGyver saw flash through his friend's eyes made him regret his words. Because, as much as he was trying to push Jack away, he really didn't want him to leave. Still, he prepared himself as best he could for the inevitable.

But it didn't happen. If anything, the resolve in Jack's gaze seemed to strengthen. He continued to hold Mac's face in his hands, needing him to see the truth. "First of all, your mom didn't have much of a choice in the matter and, from what you've told me about her, I am 100 percent certain that, given that choice, she never would have walked away from you in a million years." Mac tried to pull away but Jack held firm. "No, you started this conversation, bud, and I'm gonna finish it."

Mac grit his teeth, a little bit of defiance entering his own gaze.

"Secondly, bro, I have to say, I'm more than a bit offended at being compared to Nikki. A triple agent who seduced you to get you to trust her, then trampled on your heart with no concern for the damage that she'd cause? Seriously, dude? I think, I've proven myself to you in the trust department."

The emotions started to well up again at the realization that his partner had a point. Mac shoved them down with dogged determination.

"And, lastly, your dad was a friggin' idiot!" Jack spat. "I mean, I know I'm not supposed to speak ill of the dead 'n all that, but come on! Anyone stupid enough to voluntarily walk away from you, is a bonafide nutcase in my book!" he said, solidifying his grip on his friend when he tried yet again to pull free. "I can't tell ya', kid," he continued softly, "how many times I wish I had been your dad!"

That got Mac's attention whipping back to him. His eyes were wide and still full of emotion, but at least some of that emotion had been replaced with a tiny bit of hope. As if Mac had wished the same thing on occasion… and Jack could only pray that were true.

"I know for dang sure that I would've never walked out on you," Jack vowed. "And I won't walk out on you now, either!"

Mac tried to stop himself but the words slipped out anyway… "There's no way you can promise that," he whispered.

"You look into my eyes and tell me it that's a promise or not," Jack told him. He waited while MacGyver did as he told him, albeit hesitantly, but he knew something else was needed. Something they didn't often say to each other when one of them wasn't dosed with sodium pentothal or facing possible death-by-lightning, but something that Mac clearly needed to hear in that moment. "Even if I'm not your biological dad… I love ya' as if I were, bud. If you don't trust anything else, trust that." When the sob tore free from somewhere deep inside the kid, Jack was ready.

"Home is where the heart is," James said with an annoying calm.

"If that's true, my home is with Jack; not with you."

Mac crumpled forward, no longer able to hold everything in—no longer wanting to—and clung to his best friend's arm like it was a life preserver. He was still embarrassed when Jack gathered him into his embrace and held him against his chest; humiliated when he was cradled in the other man's lap and rocked back and forth; mortified when he drew comfort from the sensation of Jack's hand carding through his hair and the fatherly kiss planted on the crown of his head.

MacGyver still felt all those things, even blushed profusely at the child-like treatment, but he no longer feared not being able to return from that brink. He trusted that, when the time came, Jack would be there to pull him back. Because what he had told his dad a few days before was true…

"Jack Dalton has been more of a father to me than you have ever been! And he is ten times the role model you could ever hope to be!" Mac swiped tears of rage from his eyes before they could escape, not wanting his father to misconstrue them as weakness.

The fact that Mac no longer worried about Jack seeing his tears was pretty remarkable. But, no, it wasn't that he didn't worry about it—more that, he didn't worry about Jack using that weakness and vulnerability against him; he knew without a doubt that Jack would never take Mac's pain and throw it back at him, or exploit it for some kind of personal gain.

The same could definitely not be said of his father.

So, when Mac made one more attempt to pull away from Jack's embrace, it wasn't because he feared recrimination, it was because of wounded pride, plain and simple.

And, when Jack hauled him back and held him firmly within the protective circle of his arms, Mac knew it wasn't because Jack was trying to gain the upper hand, it was an act of friendship, and love—which was not so plain, and certainly not simple.

The tears kept flowing; the sobs continued to slip free of Mac's tenuous hold… and, in those moments, Angus MacGyver's true healing began.

As Jack felt Mac's weight lean a bit heavier into him, he knew the kid had finally cried himself to sleep. It had taken longer this time around, at least a couple hours, probably more. Jack hadn't been checking his watch, because the length of time didn't matter in the least. All that mattered was the kid currently curled up in his arms.

The tears hadn't been constant but each time they tapered off, Jack still kept a hold of his friend because he knew, he knew, that there was more. There had to be. This wasn't just from the past few days. This pain went back years, probably straight back to when Mac's mom died.

Once the dam broke, everything the kid had compartmentalized over the past two decades came bubbling to the surface, reaching desperately for a long-sought release. And, sure enough, every time the tears stopped, every time Jack refused to let Mac go, a few minutes later they started flowing again, until the river finally dried up.

Even though he was asleep now Jack continued to hold him just to ensure no nightmares tried to get their hooks into him. But he held on for selfish reasons, too.

When Jack had been in that coffin, as confident as he'd been that Mac would find him, a small part of him knew that the blond genius wouldn't be quite as certain of his abilities. And it broke Jack's heart that he couldn't be there for his young friend.

So, while Mac snored softly in his arms, Jack's excuse for not letting go was that he was making up for lost time. Then he looked down at the kid curled up in his lap, and quickly realized that if Mac remained in that position for much longer, he'd wake up with a totally different kind of pain in his neck—one that didn't wear a black t-shirt and matching jeans; one that didn't insist he face up to his long pent up fears of abandonment.

The former Delta Commando smiled warmly as he took in the sleeping MacGyver, who looked ten years younger in that moment, then maneuvered the kid around so he could slip one arm beneath the bent knees, and the other behind the sloped back. Then Jack shifted to his knees with Mac cradled securely in his arms. Still exhausted from his own ordeal over the past few days, Jack took a fortifying breath, then climbed to his feet being careful not to lose his grip on his precious cargo.

Mac stirred suddenly, and Jack froze. The last thing he wanted to do was wake the kid. So, he waited another moment. Once he was certain his friend was still asleep, he moved over to the bed and slowly laid him out on top of it, easing him down onto the pillows. Carding his hand through the blond hair one final time, Jack's heart swelled when Mac leaned into his touch.

A few minutes later, he moved to the other side of the hotel room, as far away as he could get while still keeping an eye on the sleeping genius, and pulled out his phone to call Bozer.

There was another kid he had to check in on.

Bozer disconnected the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, feeling relief course through him at the knowledge that both Mac and Riley were going to be okay. He was pretty certain that the muscle of the team had withheld a lot when it came to his own captivity, but Bozer was immensely thankful that Jack was okay, too.

Come to think of it, the guy had been pretty vague when it came to telling him how Mac was holding up. Bozer didn't let that worry him, though. He knew that beneath Jack's tough exterior was someone who would never, ever let anything bad happen to Mac—physically or emotionally.

TEN MONTHS AGO

Bozer paced back and forth in Matty's office, waiting to hear about the team's return from the junkyard. He was still mad at Mac for lying to him all those years, and he was darn well gonna tell him as much, but that didn't mean he wanted his best friend to be hurt in any way. He still loved the guy, after all. He was just angry… and, if he were to be completely honest with himself, hurt.

The last thing he'd heard was Jack and Riley going off to save Mac from the George-Washington-mask-wearing psychopath, then all comms went silent. That was about an hour ago.

The door behind him suddenly opened, and Bozer made sure to put his own mask on—the angry and betrayed roommate one—as he spun around to face Mac!

Except it wasn't Mac. It was a former Delta Commando who looked a whole heck of a lot angrier than Bozer could ever hope to look. Whoa! All the fry-cook-slash-soon-to-be-film-producer could think was 'What'd I do?'

Jack pointed one finger at him, face as stern as Bozer had ever seen from the usually happy-go-lucky Jack Dalton. "Boy," he growled, "you had better get that look off your face, right now!"

"What look?" Bozer asked, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly, while doing his best to hide a steadily growing fear behind his anger.

"The indignant, self-righteous, 'ooh, Mac hurt my feelings' look," Jack told him, being sure that his imitation of Bozer's voice was sufficiently whiney.

"Hey—" Bozer began, an all new kind of irritation flaring up.

"Don't you 'hey' me," Jack scolded. "Right now, I'm gonna talk. And you, son," he said, signalling Bozer to zip it when he opened his mouth to argue again. "You are going to shut up and listen."

Bozer's teeth clacked slightly when he shut his mouth, eyes going wide as he realized, for all he knew, Jack was some kind of psychopathic mercenary.

"Mac is down in Medical, right now—"

"Is he alri—?" Bozer snapped his mouth shut again when Jack made a zipping motion across his lips, just thankful the man wasn't sliding his finger across his throat.

"He's fine. Physically. A few scrapes and bruises, nothin' that won't heal in a week or so. Emotionally is a different story." Jack advanced on Bozer now, until he was within arm's reach. "When he walks through that door, you are going to tell him that you forgive him, and you are going to mean it. You hear me?"

"He lied to me for years, Jack! Why should I let him off the hook so easily?"

"Because he is the best thing that ever happened to either of us, and you know it!" Jack exclaimed, driving his point home with the jab of a finger to the centre of Bozer's chest.

"I used to think that," Bozer said, hating the fact that he was pouting now. "But after tonight…" his words trailed off, his anger being quickly replaced by a deep-seated sadness. Mac wasn't the only one who'd been lied to in the past. His history wasn't nearly as painful as Mac's, but still.

"Look," Jack started, expression softening somewhat. "I know it hurts to be lied to. Trust me, I know. But he really was trying to protect you, Boze."

"Clearly, that didn't work too well."

"You think, Murdoc is the first killer who would've wanted to go after the people Mac loves the most, man? He's just the first one who had a connection to the one person—and, yes, I mean Nikki—who was able to tell him who those people are! If Mac hadn't kept you in the dark for as long as he had, you woulda been mowed down crossing the street coming home from your favourite Chinese restaurant, or run off the road going to the grocery store for milk 'n cookies, a long friggin' time ago!"

"But—"

"No 'buts', Bozer. Mac doesn't have a deceptive bone in his body, and you know it. So, his lyin' to you had to be to protect you, otherwise he wouldn't've been able to do it! So, stop with the boo-hoo'ing and the woe-is-me, and forgive the guy already… so that maybe he can start forgivin' himself!"

Five minutes after Jack left the office, Bozer still wasn't sure if he could just offer absolution to Mac so easily. Then he saw his best friend approaching the office from the elevator, each step looking like it weighed a hundred pounds, head hung low with dread. Looking like the epitome of a kicked puppy.

And Bozer knew in that moment, that he couldn't not forgive him. He loved the guy too darn much!

Bozer was yanked back to the present when his phone rang. He looked at the Caller ID… and froze!

Jack tried his best to give Mac space as they packed up to leave. The kid's cheeks had been tinged with pink ever since he woke up curled into Jack's side for the second time in a row and all in one night. But what was Jack supposed to do? Just let the kid be attacked by his near-perfect recall in his dreams, too? Not a chance.

Poor Sparky was 'roused' from his charging session with no idea of what happened over the past four days. Jack wished he could rid both himself and Mac of the memories, too.

"I know you're nothing like Nikki," Mac said suddenly from across the room, voice so soft that Jack wouldn't have even heard him if he wasn't attuned to everything Mac at that moment.

"I should hope so," Jack said, praying his next statement wouldn't be too soon, but knowing that the kid needed something lighthearted for a change. "Dude, I would never, ever, use my power of seduction to get what I want from you."

Mac's jaw dropped, unable to believe what his partner had just said.

"I mean, sure, maybe I'll buy you a beer or something, but never I'd never seduce," Jack reiterated with an exaggerated shiver. "No offense, brother, but you're just not my type."

The blond was silent for so long, Jack thought he'd made the wrong move. Then the smallest of smiles quirked up the kid's mouth, and the sparkle Jack had missed for so long shone in the blue eyes. Next thing he knew, a pillow was lobbed at his head.

"You're such a moron," Mac chuckled.

Just then, Jack's cell phone rang. He patted his pockets, looking for the device, then finally realized he had left it on the nightstand next to his bed. He strode the few steps to the nightstand to pick up the phone. "It's Bozer," he said, accepting the call. "Hey, Boze, what up? We're just gettin' ready to head back… What?… Oh, yeah, okay, just sec…" he pulled the phone away from his ear, motioning for Mac to come over as he placed the phone on speaker. "Okay, Bozer, you're on speaker. What's up?"

"Are you sure, Jack? Cuz, I know you and technology don't usually mesh very well, and Mac really needs to hear this—"

Jack turned to Mac with a roll of the eyes. "I'm here, Boze," Mac told him, a slight grin on his face. "What's going on?"

"Dude! I wanted to call and tell you right away, but I also didn't want to get your hopes up, so I had them double check and triple check their findings, and then—"

"Bozer!" Jack and Mac all but yelled into the phone simultaneously.

"Sorry, sorry," Bozer said sheepishly. Then his tone took on all the seriousness of a scientist. "Your friend at CSI sent me the results because he didn't want to wake you guys up… Ummm… I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Boze, if you don't tell us right now…" Jack threatened, allowing the guy's imagination to fill in the gap of what the ramifications might be. He and Mac smirked when they were able to practically hear Bozer's eyes widen in alarm.

"The burned-up corpse at that warehouse… it wasn't Frankie, Mac."

Mac's jaw dropped yet again, eyes filling with emotion. Was that even possible? No. He couldn't allow himself to believe, only to have to deal with her death all over again. And what were the chances that Frankie had not-died twice in her lifetime?

It was only when Jack's calloused palm gripped the back of his neck that MacGyver realized he hadn't said anything. "That," his voice broke, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "That's impossible, Boze. I saw her… I heard her."

"You know as well as I do, Mac—DNA doesn't lie."

"Are you sure you saw her?" Jack interjected, brown eyes studying his partner intently.

At first, the annoyance in Mac's gaze was unmistakeable. Then realization dawned. "No," he admitted. "I only saw the back of her head." His eyes filled again, this time with hesitant relief. Could it be…? "But I heard her voice."

"That can be faked," Jack reminded him. "A recording, voice impersonator…" he stopped, seeing that Mac was taking it all in. "Uh, Boze, thanks for the info. We'll call you back in a minute, okay?" Without waiting for a response Jack disconnected the call with thumb of the same hand that was holding the phone, not wanting to break the connection with Mac right then, sensing the kid might lose touch with reality if he did. This emotional roller coaster had to stop at some point, didn't it? Hopefully, before this kid suffered a nervous breakdown. "You okay, brother?"

"The photo could have been photo-shopped," Mac said deliberately. "I should have checked that," he added, his voice heavily laden with self deprecation now. "How could I have been so stupid?" he exclaimed, turning away from Jack to begin pacing.

Jack grabbed him by the arm, spinning him back to face him. "Hey, now," he said. "Let's keep the blame in the place it belongs, and that's with Nikki and Murdoc. Got it?"

Giving Jack an appreciative glance, Mac nodded his reluctant agreement to that, then resumed his pacing. He pulled up the keypad on his phone and dialled Frankie's number from memory.

"But why the song and dance number?" Jack asked. "And what if…" he let his voice trail off, eyes never leaving Mac who's tension was clearly rising with every second that Frankie didn't answer her phone.

"He killed her anyway, just somewhere else and nobody's found the body yet?" Mac finished for him, giving up and disconnecting the call. He grabbed his duffel off the bed and headed for the door. "I don't know, Jack. I guess, I'll have to pay him another visit and find out." Mac winced as soon as the words left his mouth knowing that he'd just let the cat out of the bag.

But maybe his partner wouldn't notice. Maybe he'd just think Mac was referring to when he was last at the prison for the undercover op which had Mac impersonating Murdoc to catch the group who'd hired him to kill Joshua Abdal Khan. Maybe…

All Mac's 'maybes' went out the window as realization registered in Jack's eyes and, in true Jack fashion, he asked the exact right question to get an answer that MacGyver had been trying to keep to himself for weeks. "Please, tell me you haven't gone to him again since the whole 'teach you to be a serial killer' fiasco?"

Mac averted his eyes, which told Jack all he needed to know. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger for a second before dropping his hand to make steady eye contact with Mac again. "Come on, kid, I know you've seen Silence of the Lambs, because we watched it together when I was teaching you the difference between horror movies and classic thrillers."

"Jack, it was only a few times," MacGyver said in his 'don't overreact about this' tone.

"A few times? Seriously, dude. What were you thinking?" Jack's voice began to climb in both volume and panic. "Do you not remember what happened to Clarice? I mean, it's no wonder he—" Jack suddenly cut himself off, realizing what he was about to say would be misinterpreted by his still emotionally traumatized friend. The look in the kid's eyes told him his pre-emptive strike came approximately six words and one comma too late.

"What were you gonna say, Jack? No wonder he kidnapped you? No wonder he tried to kill everyone I lov—everyone I care about?" he knew Jack had used that word the night before but Mac just wasn't ready to do the same yet, not under these circumstances, anyway.

Not bothering to wait for the answer he knew was coming, MacGyver spun away from his friend and started for the door again.

Jack took the bag out of his hand and held it out of his reach. Mac tried to get it from him a couple times, then gave up. He was so not in the mood for this. "Fine," he growled. "You carry it to the car. As a matter of fact, enjoy your drive back to LA on your own. I'll just try to trade in my plane ticket for a different flight."

"Son of a—" Jack bit back the rest of what he was going to say and tossed the duffel onto the bed behind him, briefly wondering how someone who was so smart, could be so stupid sometimes. In two large strides, he made it to the door before his partner, then planted himself in front of it.

After what had happened the night before and now this, Jack was starting to feel like he'd reverted back to his days as a bouncer before being recruited into the Army. "Will you please just stop puttin' words in my mouth and give me a minute to explain? None of this was your fault, Mac. The sooner you get that through your thick skull and into that ginormous brain of yours, the better it'll be for both of us."

"You were just about to say—"

"Ah!" he exclaimed, raising one finger in warning. "What did I just say about puttin' words in my mouth, brother?"

Mac clamped his mouth shut but that didn't stop the withering glare from oozing out of those blue orbs of his.

"What I was going to say was that it's no wonder he knew exactly how to hurt you. He got into your head, Mac, whether you like it or not. He got into your head and figured out what would hurt you the most. What he chose to do with that information is on him… and Nikki," he added gently, knowing that the blond haired, blue eyed black widow was still a soft spot for his young friend. "You got a big heart, brother. Some people in this world won't hesitate to use that to their advantage."

"I needed to talk to him, Jack. I needed to find out what he knew about… I needed to make sure my dad was safe."

"I get that, Mac. I really do. I just wish you'd start worrying about yourself as much as you worry about the people around you."

Mac's gaze softened as Jack's words sunk in. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," he whispered, emotions still hovering a little too close to the surface for his comfort.

Jack placed a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing slightly to get his attention. "Please, tell me you understand what I'm telling you here, bud."

"I do," Mac assured him.

"Good," Jack said, pulling him in for a brief hug, then releasing him so they could both grab their bags. "Now, let's call Bozer on the way home. I wanna go to Cedar Sinai to check on Riley first, then we can head to Boston first thing tomorrow morning to see what's what."

"We?"

"You didn't think I was gonna let you go alone, now did you?"

"Thanks, Jack," Mac said sincerely, unable to imagine what he would have done if the last few days had turned out differently. He took a deep breath, then: "I want to talk to Murdoc before we go to Boston, though."

"You really think he's gonna tell us the truth?"

"No. But I have to try. Like you said, just because Frankie wasn't the one in that warehouse, doesn't mean Murdoc didn't do something else to her."

Jack sighed heavily. He had hoped he'd never have to see that psychopath again.

"You don't have to—" Mac began, cutting himself off when Jack's gaze told him exactly what he thought of that particular plan.

"Yeah, as if I'd let you be alone in a room with that guy again. Like, ever," he admonished while opening the door and waiting for Mac to precede him out into the hall. "Just promise me, no more secrets. Okay?"

MacGyver paused, casting a sideways glance at his partner. "Yeah. About that."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Sitting behind the wheel of the GTO, Jack pulled out onto the highway as he and Mac finally made their way back home. "So, let me get this straight," he began. "All those nightmares were about me being sucked into the ground and Frankie being burned alive?"

"Yeah. And I couldn't do anything to stop it. Not only could I not save both of you. I couldn't save either of you."

"And that tree from your dream was the one I was buried next to?"

"Yup."

"Creepy," Jack said, drawing out that one word for the desired effect—which was an eye roll from MacGyver.

"It wasn't a vision, Jack."

"How can you be so sure? I mean, how else do you explain it?"

Mac mulled that over in his mind for a bit. "Murdoc's games always include riddles, right?"

"Yeah," Jack said, flicking his gaze between Mac and the road to indicate he was paying attention.

"Well, he likely threw little key words at me during our conversation. Clues about what he was planning—"

"Oh, you mean like subdural messages?"

Mac smirked. He'd really missed this banter while his partner had been missing. "You mean subliminal messages, Jack."

Jack's face crinkled as he considered that. Mac could see when he just gave up and took what Mac said to be the truth. "Whatever, man," he said with a slight wave of the hand. "Back to the clues."

"He was giving me clues to test me, to see if I was smart enough to figure out his plan in time to stop him. Which I wasn't."

"I beg to differ, brother."

"Jack—"

"First of all, I'm sittin' right here, and Frankie was not the one in that warehouse, so there's still a chance that she's gonna be in Boston when we get there, workin' on her next nerd project and just waitin' for the chance to get her flirt on with you again." Mac opened his mouth to argue but Jack continued to speak right over him, determined to drive his point home. "And, secondly, there will never come a time when you're not smart enough to figure out anything that pyscho has planned. You hear me? Never."

MacGyver pulled a paperclip out of the glove compartment and made ready to fiddle with it but Jack reached out and swiped it out of his hands, earning a surprised glare from Mac.

"None of this was your fault, kid," Jack insisted.

"You already told me that," MacGyver mumbled, snatching the paperclip back.

"And I'll keep sayin' it until you start believin' it."

The remainder of the drive was relatively uneventful with Jack and MacGyver making as few stops as possible, picking up food that could be eaten in the car on the way—a rule Jack dismissed for the time being because they were both anxious to check on Riley and see her progress first hand.

By the time they finally stepped through the sliding doors at Cedar Sinai it was around three in the afternoon. Both men immediately made their way up to Riley's room on the 5th floor.

The bed was empty.

Mac's breath caught in his chest as he stared at the neatly made bed. Fearing the worst had happened, that Bozer had been wrong, or the doctors had been wrong, or someone had been wrong, he could feel the annoying sting of tears in his eyes again. When was this going to stop?

He felt Jack's hand grip his forearm, steadying him the way no one else could. Mac turned to look at him, certain that the thoughts running through his mind showed clearly in his eyes. But Jack was pointing behind him, drawing Mac's attention to the other end of the hallway. Mac followed his line of sight.

Coming down the hall with the elevator doors closing behind them were Riley and Bozer. Riley was in a wheel chair, her casted leg propped up by the special extension on the chair. She appeared to be okay otherwise. Smiling, even.

Still, the sight of the cast had Mac swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. As if reading his mind, or more likely his body language and facial expression—although one could never know for sure with the likes of Jack Dalton—his partner leaned over to him, placing a calloused palm on the slope at Mac's neck and shoulder.

Jack squeezed firmly to get his attention and pulled him closer so that his mouth was right at Mac's ear—basically, their version of a hug when in public. "Not your fault, brother," he whispered, then stepped away and strode down the hall to meet their two team members, giving Mac the space he knew his partner needed.

"Hello, darlin'," Jack said, pushing Riley's hair up off her forehead and planting a kiss at the hairline. "How're you feelin'?"

Riley rolled her eyes as his lips came in contact with her skin, but Mac saw the warm blush of pleasure rise up from her neck to her cheeks. Their silent need for fatherly affection was something he and Riley had in common.

"Better," she said, smiling up at Jack then turning her gaze to Mac, as well. "How about you two?"

Jack and MacGyver shared a look, and Jack got a glimpse of the pain once again glistening in his friend's eyes. This time, though, he knew the kid needed some reassurance that Jack wouldn't be able to provide. "Hey, Bozer, why don't you and I head down to the cafeteria for some lunch?"

"I'd rather head down to your car to check on Robot," Bozer said honestly.

"Well, whatever you wanna do, Boze… as long as it's not here." Jack gave MacGyver's oldest friend a pointed look, and Bozer picked up on the not-so-subtle hint, gaze flicking from Mac to Riley and back again, then slowly settling on Jack.

"Uh, yeah, okay, Jack," he said haltingly.

Mac and Riley didn't miss the exchange but they chose to ignore it as the mismatched duo made their way to the elevator with Jack's hand firmly on the slope of Bozer's shoulder to steer him if necessary.

Mac absently hoped Bozer didn't suddenly realize he'd forgotten something because Jack Dalton came with his own version of power steering capability which was second to none. Smiling, MacGyver gripped the handles of Riley's wheelchair and guided her the rest of the way into her hospital room.

Riley tilted her head back to study the expression on his face. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Mac moved to lift her from the chair to her bed but Riley pushed his hands away.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," she told him firmly.

Seeing the determination in her eyes, Mac knew arguing would be pointless, so he knelt on the floor next to her chair and made reluctant eye contact. "Riles, I am so sorry," he told her quietly.

"Mac—" she began.

"This was all my fault," MacGyver rushed on, likely not even noticing that she'd even started to say anything.

"How do you figure?"

"I never should have gotten you involved. Murdoc and… Nikki," he still had a difficult time saying her name without picturing her dead body laying next to the grave she'd helped bury Jack in. Talk about conflicting emotions, he thought to himself before continuing. "They each had different motives but in the end they both wanted to hurt me. So, they went after all the people that I love." He made a move to stand up but was pre-empted by Riley's sudden grip on his wrist.

"First of all," she said, waiting until he locked eyes with her again. "I know how short that list is, and it's an honour to be on it," she told him.

Mac's lips quirked up into a shy smile. He nodded and started to pull away again.

"Hold on," Riley said, not relinquishing her hold just yet. "I'm not done."

"Sorry," Mac responded, looking sufficiently chagrined.

"If you had kept this to yourself, and not allowed me the opportunity to help you find Jack? That would've been something I'd have found difficult to forgive." It was now her turn to look away. "I love him too, y'know."

That pushed Mac's smile from shy to full-on-mischievous. "I'll be sure to pass that on to Jack," he teased.

"Yeah," Riley intoned, "that can never happen."

They both laughed, all tension leaving the room almost immediately.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Riley asked. "Woman with a broken leg here."

Grinning from ear to ear, MacGyver slipped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her legs, then lifted her out of the chair and carried her over to deposit her carefully onto the bed. Before he straightened up again, Riley gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "You did good, Mac," she whispered, pulling him down into a hug.

Mac returned the embrace. "Thanks, Ri," he said softly, before pulling back and staring down at her intently. "I hate to ask this but Jack and I are flying back to Vegas to question Murdoc and I need your help with something."

"Name it," Riley told him.

TBC

A/N 3 I almost forgot to mention, the 'Clarice' bit was a wonderful idea from poxelda!