Author's Note: This fic was originally just the three chapters, but I didn't quite like how I had ended the story. I figured McCormick needed a little guidance. So here's an Epilogue.

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EARTH-SHATTERING CONFESSIONS

Epilogue

Hardcastle knocked softly on the door of the hospital room, then pushed it open wide enough to walk through. He smiled at the man in the bed, then looked around, nodding in approval. "Nice. Bigger room." The judge moved to the bedside, and took a seat in the visitor's chair. "Chair's more comfortable, too."

McCormick didn't respond. He was sitting up in the partially inclined bed, staring ahead stonily, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall. He hadn't acknowledged the older man's entrance, and had yet to glance his way.

Milt frowned at the silence. He took a quick look at the wall to see what McCormick was staring at, and saw nothing. "Hey. McCormick!"

Mark blinked and slowly turned his head. "What."

Hardcastle shook his head in confusion. "What's going on? I thought you were feeling better."

"I'm fine." The dull tone in which McCormick said the words proved them false the moment they were spoken.

"Right," Hardcastle drawled. Then he sighed lightly. "It's not that bad, kiddo."

Mark's eyes – both the uninjured one and the black one – narrowed in disbelief. "What? What the hell – "

At the same time that McCormick was replying, the judge was continuing. "I know you don't like hospitals, but it's just overnight this ti-" Milt broke off as he heard the invective and then took in McCormick's incredulous expression. "What did you think I meant?"

Mark turned away, breathing deeply. "Nothin'."

Milt sighed again, and this time it was heavy with regret. "Of course. What did he say to you?"

Mark shook his head tightly but remained quiet. Hardcastle moved his chair nearer the bed, and looked closely at his friend. "McCormick. What did the son of a bitch say?"

Mark's mouth quirked in a half-grin, but it quickly faded. He turned back to face the judge, but instead of answering, asked his own question.

"You don't really lie to me, do you, Judge?"

Hardcastle gazed at his friend quizzically. "Why would I lie to you?" Then he shrugged, and tilted his head in a nod. "Except when it comes to your dad. Guess I've kinda lied to you twice there," he acknowledged. "With the safe-cracking thing in Jersey – "

"– and after I got shot, and you said you couldn't track him down," McCormick finished. His own face was inquisitive. "I don't even know why you brought it up then. Why you felt like you had to say anything. It's not like I would've been upset that you didn't try to find him – "

"You asked me to."

McCormick looked blankly at the judge. "No, I didn't . . . Did I?"

Hardcastle turned his hands up in a gesture of affirmation. "You mighta been a little loopy at the time, between the drugs and the fever, but yeah. I had told you how I let Barbara and Sarah and the Aunts know what happened, and then you asked what your dad had said. When I told him." Milt sent an annoyed look at his friend. "Sure, you don't remember that, but you remember me telling you I couldn't find him." He shrugged again. "But you were back and forth; sometimes you were okay, and then ten minutes later you'd be talking to people who weren't there." Milt rubbed a hand under his nose, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

"Oh." Mark toyed with the bedsheet, not looking at the judge. "I – I didn't know. Sorry."

Milt looked hard at the younger man. "I don't know what you're apologizing for. I'm the one that lied about it." He took a deep breath. "But that's it, the only times, really. I don't lie to you. Maybe I don't tell you . . . everything all the time, because I don't think you need to know – "

"Because you don't want to tell me – "

"But," Hardcastle continued with a scowl, "I tell you the truth. And you're just as selective with the information you give me, wise guy."

Mark nodded. "I know." Then he sighed, closing his eyes.

After a few moments of silence, Milt gently prodded, "What did he say, kiddo?"

McCormick leaned back in the bed, then grimaced as an unexpected wave of pain floated through his head. Not wanting to concern the judge more than he already seemed, Mark did his best to work through the discomfort, breathing slowly and evenly. He let his hands wander on the bed sheets, grabbing a handful of the material in his right hand and twisting it. When he finally started to speak, his words were hesitant and his voice rough.

"When we were trapped in the room, I was trying to . . . distract myself. 'Cause I felt lousy, and I was worried about you. So I started asking Sonny questions about him. Thinking he might feel bad enough about me being hurt that he'd tell me something. Or maybe I thought I could trip him up." Mark frowned bitterly. "I'm trying to figure out who I am, you know, where I come from, who my family was? But the guy wouldn't break. Wouldn't even tell me what his parents' names were."

"Okay. . . " Hardcastle waved his hand in a "go on" gesture.

"So we pretty much left it. I wasn't up to fighting him, and then you showed up. You guys got me here, and the whole thing was dropped. Then Sonny stops by to say good-bye. Sends you out of the room." McCormick's face hardened. "Shoulda known then that something was up."

"He wasn't even in there that long," Hardcastle said. "He left when the nurse kicked him out. Said 'bye' to me and went on his way. Shook my hand and everything. He sure as hell didn't act guilty about anything."

"No, why would he? He's such a pro at getting away with the lies and stories that's it's old hat to him. He's not used to getting found out. Must think I'm an idiot," Mark muttered darkly.

"You're gonna make me guess?"

McCormick moved his arms abruptly, crossing them over his chest. "I was being kind of rude, because I had thought, the way he'd been acting at home, that he might actually care about me. But here he was, all ready to take off as soon as possible. I don't know, maybe it was because he knew I'd be okay now that you were here and I was in the hospital. Only that's giving him too much credit. He takes off. It's what he does. But you know," Mark looked sadly at the judge, "I might have been okay with that. I'm used to that. I would have gotten over it. And I might even have thought a little better of him, because he did really try to take care of me when I got hurt."

McCormick repositioned himself, wincing at the weight placed on his injured hand. Milt waited patiently for his friend to continue.

As Mark began to speak again, he looked away from the judge, at the nothing on the opposite wall. "I don't know why he did it. I guess the motive doesn't matter. But all of sudden he starts telling me about his parents, Miriam and Jacob." McCormick fairly spit out the names. "That they emigrated from Latvia in the twenties, came to America through Ellis Island. Lived in Brooklyn." Mark turned suddenly to face Hardcastle. "Latvia. Where is that, Europe?"

Milt had still been processing what McCormick had said, and he jerked slightly. "What? Oh. Yeah, I think so. By Russia." He furrowed his brow. "I don't think there's a big Italian demographic there."

"Nope. Not Italian. He said Jewish. Said they were Jewish. That I'm Jewish."

"Well. . . " Milt hedged. "Not exactly. I mean, he would be, with both parents, but your mother wasn't Jewish, and you weren't raised in the Jewish faith, so. . . " he trailed off as he saw McCormick staring at him in astonishment. "What? I know things," the judge said defensively.

"That's not the point! It was a lie! The whole thing was a damn lie!" Mark threw his hands out in disgust. "Don't the names sound familiar to you? Ring a bell at all?"

Hardcastle shrugged. "Should they?"

"Think, Hardcastle. Miriam. Jacob."

The older man frowned thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers. "That nurse. The pretty one. You were still out of it then, but I remember she introduced herself when she came on shift. I think her name might have been Miriam." He looked questioningly at McCormick.

"Now you're cookin'," Mark answered with a wan smile. "Miriam Jacobs."

"Son of a bitch," Hardcastle repeated. After a moment, he said, "But Sonny was gone before she started her shift. He'd left, was heading back to the estate by then."

"Yeah? But how long was he back in the ER before he came to say good-bye to me?" Mark lowered his voice in imitation. "'Hey, I'm here to check on my son. I'm really worried about him – So you're a nurse, huh? You're too pretty to be a nurse. You should be a model, or an actress.'" He smiled grimly. "I know he was flirting with her. When she came in the room and saw him, she knew him by name, and got all flustered."

"She had to be at least fifteen years younger than him. She was closer to your age."

McCormick laughed humorlessly. "I don't think that mattered to Sonny, Judge."

Both men were silent for several moments. Mark leaned back against the pillows, closing his eyes. Then he sighed heavily.

"It wasn't enough for him to stab me in the back. He had to take the knife and twist it."

Milt nodded absently. "Although. . ."

McCormick sat up and stared at him suspiciously. "Don't you dare defend him."

Hardcastle shifted his eyes guiltily, but went on. "He might not have been lying. Maybe the story was true, but he couldn't give you the names. If you knew the names, you could possibly figure out who they were. Go to New York and do some research. And if you figured out who they were, then you'd figure out who he is. Who he really is. And he's not ready for that. He might never be." Milt shook his head. "He wanted to give you something, give you an answer. He did what he could."

"You don't know that," McCormick said. "I don't know that. I don't know anything. And I don't want anything more to do with him." Mark's voice was cold. "I'm done."

Milt smiled gently. "His loss."

McCormick's returned smile was brief, but appreciative. "Thanks, Judge."

"Hmm," Hardcastle mumbled, his version of "you're welcome." Then the older man became contemplative. He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, thinking quietly.

"He's not your only living relative. You've got a cousin, right? On your mom's side?"

"Yeah . . .my uncle's kid. You knew that? I don't talk about her much."

Milt chuckled. "The blind date. You showed up and it was your cousin."

"Oh yeah." Mark smiled faintly in remembrance. "But I haven't seen her in like ten years. My aunt either. I don't even know if she's still alive." Mark's smile had dissolved. "And my cousin, even if she's still in Jersey, she's probably married, has a different name."

"So? Not everyone is like Sonny, trying to hide their identity," Hardcastle pointed out. "It shouldn't be too hard to track them down. If your aunt died, there'd be an obituary somewhere. And if your cousin's married, there should be a marriage license out there. What was her name? McCormick, right?"

"Yeah. Annie. Anne, I think." But Mark shook his head. "I don't know, Judge. She might not know more than me about that side of my family. Who was going to tell her about her background, her dad? Not likely." Anger bled into McCormick's voice. "I knew the guy."

"Okay, maybe she wouldn't know. But she might also know more than you think."

Mark was adamant in his denial. "There probably wasn't much to tell. Everyone died young. My mom's parents, my mom. . . Even my uncle. He died before he turned fifty."

"Well, you'll never know unless you check. I can help you find them, or her, whatever. We can keep it nice and legal." Hardcastle smiled, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "No breaking and entering necessary."

Mark's response to the smile was a deep sigh. "I don't think so, Judge."

"So you're giving up. You're gonna let Sonny win."

"I didn't say – " McCormick fell back against the pillows. "Judge, I need some time, okay? I gotta get over this thing with Sonny. I just don't think I could handle another disappointment right now."

"Okay." Hardcastle nodded slowly. "I won't push it. But if you change your mind, the offer still stands."

"Thanks," Mark murmured. His eyes felt suddenly heavy, and he realized just how tired and miserable he felt.

Hardcastle saw the weary change come over his friend, and he pushed back his chair. "I should get out of here, let you get some rest. I gotta get back home and check on things, see how bad it looks." He glanced at his watch. "Hopefully the phones are back up, and I can call the insurance guy before they close. Although they might be staying open late tonight to deal with all the claims."

Mark looked up as the judge rose. "Was there a lot of damage?"

Milt shrugged. "I didn't get a chance to look too close. I did notice a new crack in the fountain," he said with a small grin.

"Great. I was hoping to get a day off to recover," Mark complained.

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're on the IR until your doctor says different." Hardcastle gestured at the bed controls. "You want me to lower that for you?"

"Nah. They'll be in here pretty soon to do my concussion check, so there's no point in getting comfortable."

"Right. Well, I'll come back later, see how you're doing." Milt moved toward the door, then paused, turning back to McCormick.

"I shouldn't have to tell you this, but. . .you've got plenty of family."

Mark squinted his eyes, looking somewhat confused, and Hardcastle sighed in exasperation. "I mean in between Didi and the Aunts and Gerald, plus Warren and her mom. . . Well, you're an honorary Hardcastle, you know."

McCormick's confused expression gave way to a wide grin. The judge glared back, although the look was tinged with embarrassment. "You knew what I meant," he accused the younger man.

"Yeah," Mark confessed. When Hardcastle's glare became more focused, Mark amended his statement to, "Yes, your Honor." But the grin remained.

"Then why'd you let me go on like that?"

Mark's grin softened into a warm smile. His answer was spoken with candid gratefulness.

"It was really nice to hear you say it."

The judge hmmphed mildly, muttered to himself, then turned again to leave. And as he watched his friend exit the hospital room, McCormick discovered that while he was still pretty tired, he wasn't exactly miserable anymore.

END

A/N: The comment about McCormick going on a blind date – that ended up being with his cousin – is from the second season episode "What's so Funny. . . ?"

And if anyone was curious, on October 1st, 1987, at 7:42 A.M., there was a moderate (5.9) earthquake that affected the greater Los Angeles area. The Whittier Narrows Earthquake.

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