Epilogue
four months later…
"Where's Mac?" Jo asked, peering in puzzlement at Mac's empty office, "I haven't seen him all morning.
"I think he called in sick," Adam told her.
"Mac? Call in sick?" Jo repeated in astonishment.
"Yeah I know," Adam said, "I don't think that's ever happened before."
"Well I'm sure it had to have happened at some point, Adam," Jo said, "Everyone gets sick."
"I don't think Mac does," Adam said.
Jo just shot him a look before dialing Mac's number and walking down the hall to her office. But Mac didn't pick up.
He had initially taken three weeks off after getting guardianship of Devon and had come to work only part-time for another two weeks after that. Besides the intrinsic adjustment and huge life change the child had gone through, it had taken a good while and the seemingly infinite patience that Mac possessed, to get the boy to do anything and bear any resemblance to a normal child. Jo had never seen a four-year-old just sit or stand and wait for permission for everything. The poor kid hadn't even seemed to know the concept of playing. Not to mention the amount of time it had taken for Devon to be ok with being left alone with anyone besides Mac. But between the resiliency of young kids to be able to adapt, and Mac's knack for seeming to know exactly what the boy needed and how far on any given day to push or just shelter him, Devon had made incredible progress.
But Mac had returned to work full-time, and although he'd been far more cognizant of keeping to his actual work schedule, he hadn't missed a day. Jo wasn't in slightest bit worried by the fact that he had now called in sick, but the man not answering his phone was very unusual, and by the time one in the afternoon rolled around and Jo had neither heard from him nor been able to reach him, she started to get a little concerned. She called Flack who hadn't heard anything either. Having to go out anyway she decided to stop by his apartment just to make sure everything was alright.
As she got off on the ninth floor of his apartment building and made her way down the hallway towards his door, the sound of music being played very loudly from one of the residences got more pronounced. Her puzzlement grew even greater as she stopped outside Mac's door and realized that the music was coming from his apartment. She knocked, but there wasn't an answer. Although given the volume of the music emanating from inside, she wasn't surprised. She fished out the key Flack had lent her and opened the door.
Her growing concern instantly evaporated and a grin spread across her face at the sight that met her eyes. Mac was sitting on the couch in his living room, hair looking as if he'd just rolled out of bed, his bass on one knee and Devon perched in front of it on the other. Both were wearing identical, ancient and faded Marine t-shirts (Devon happily drowning in his), shorts and bare feet. Devon's hair was even messier than Mac's and his nose looked red and raw, but he held a pair of drumsticks and was keeping an amazingly good beat on a small and rather beat-up looking tom drum. They were both playing enthusiastically along to the music that was blasting from Mac's speakers, and Jo nearly burst out laughing as she caught them just in time to hear them belting out the words, "Purple haze…!" in unison, Mac proceeding to sing along to all the lyrics with Devon chiming in each time the words "purple haze" came along. The contrast to the grim-faced Mac with a gun and badge and Kevlar who showed no fear in the face of danger and gunfire and who could make even the most confident and brazen criminals squirm in interrogation, couldn't have more starkly opposite.
Mac suddenly realized Jo was standing in his apartment and whipped his head around, looking himself rather like a kid who'd gotten caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. He smiled sheepishly at Jo and finished the song before turning off his stereo with the remote that had been sitting on the couch next to him and setting his bass on the floor. Devon turned his head to glance briefly at Mac before looking over in Jo's direction as well. He instantly squirmed backwards in Mac's lap and lay his head on Mac's chest while looking shyly at Jo.
Jo applauded as she walked towards them. "That sounded wonderful guys!" she said, beaming at Devon and shooting Mac an inquisitive glance. It was obvious Devon was the one who was sick, but rock music was hardly a therapy she was all that familiar with.
"Cold medicine works wonders," Mac answered her unspoken question. "You were quite miserable this morning before we went out to the store to get it, weren't you little guy," Mac said, ruffling Devon's hair.
Devon nodded.
"You want to show Jo what you got a couple weeks ago?" Mac asked him.
Devon's eyes lit up as he pushed himself off Mac's chest and pointed at the drum, eyes shining. "This," he announced proudly.
"That's really cool!" Jo told him.
"Do you remember what kind of drum it is?" Mac prompted him.
"A tom-tom drum," Devon said even prouder than before.
"An upside-down ice cream bucket wasn't cutting it anymore," Mac added wryly and shifted his focus as Devon suddenly pulled on the neck of his t-shirt to get his attention. Mac leaned his head down as Devon whispered something in his ear so Jo couldn't hear. "Of course," he told the boy, sitting back up. He slid Devon off his knee, and Jo hid a smile behind her hand as Mac's t-shirt which the boy was wearing, suddenly fell to below his knees and almost to his hands. Mac's eyes shone with amusement as well. "Here," he said to Devon, "Let's take that off just for a minute so it doesn't get in the way. We can put it back on as soon you get back. You got the snap or do you need help?" he asked, pulling the t-shirt over Devon's head and indicating the snap on the boy's shorts.
"I got it," Devon said. He disappeared down the hallway and a moment later, Mac and Jo heard the sound of the bathroom door closing.
"I'm surprised we haven't been called out here on a noise complaint," Jo said, sitting down in one of the chairs that was in the living room.
Mac laughed, "Oh come one, it wasn't that loud."
Jo just looked at him. "Then explain how you didn't hear your phone all morning," she retorted.
"Sorry," Mac replied sheepishly.
"So, a drum, eh?" Jo asked, arching one eyebrow.
"Yeah," Mac said, "He actually wants a guitar, 'A real guitar, not a bass guitar' as he so bluntly put it to me."
Jo laughed at the look on Mac's face as he quoted Devon.
"But he's so small for his age yet," Mac continued, "That there's really none that would work. Besides, he's a bit young for it anyway, and this will let him just absorb and enjoy music without struggling with anything. I told him if he still wants one we can get him one for his sixth birthday."
Jo just looked at him in a very satisfied sort of way, the life in Mac's eyes about sharing one of his passions with Devon fairly radiating off him.
"What?" Mac asked.
"You'll be so cute together," she said, the 'awww' factor fairly dripping from her voice.
Mac just half-glared at her embarrassedly.
"So how's he doing overall?" Jo asked.
"Not too bad," Mac replied, leaning back on the couch and locking his fingers behind his head and glancing over his shoulder down the hall. The kid was taking a while, he thought. "I have a feeling I'm soon going to have to deal with the normal four-year-old behavior of him running harum-scarum all over the place. Well, at least around here," he said, indicating their apartment, "He doesn't budge from my side when we go out, which I am more than perfectly fine with. But there haven't been any issues leaving him at pre-school for a while now." He paused before continuing quieter, "He still wakes me occasionally from a nightmare that his father's chasing him down, but they're getting less frequent too."
"You know this suits you," Jo said after a moment and smiling at Mac.
"What does?" Mac asked.
"This," Jo gestured at Mac, "You, in an old t-shirt and shorts, calling in sick to work in order to take care of a runny nose, and teaching a four-year-old to play drums of all things. You're happy, relaxed. And correct me if I'm mistaken, but I think I see cereal bowls and the remnants of grilled cheese still on the counter. Are you letting your apartment get into a little bit of a mess?"
Mac looked slightly embarrassed, but he smiled. Jo didn't say it explicitly but he knew what she meant: it looked and felt like a home. It wasn't just someplace with cool things in it that he came back to to have dinner and watch some tv before going to bed and then return to work the next day. It was lived in and shared.
"So when's the adoption stuff getting finalized?" Jo queried.
Mac made a wry face. "Not for another three or four months," he said. "I've never had to deal with so much paperwork and hoops to jump through. Well," he amended, "I have, just not on a personal level like this."
"Yeah, it's no joke," Jo confirmed, thinking back to the logistical hassle of when she'd adopted Ellie.
Just then Devon came back holding the waistline of his shorts together and a slight frown on his face. "Daddy I can't get it to do back up," he said, stopping in front of Mac.
"Oh this is the ornery pair of shorts isn't it," Mac said, never quite getting used to the jolt of surprise and warmth that filled him whenever Devon called him 'daddy'. He had never asked the boy to; Devon had just done it on his own a couple weeks after coming to live with Mac, and it had reminded Mac of what Jo had told him that night at the hospital about Devon unconsciously looking for and needing a dad.
"Yes," Devon said in a strained voice as he continued trying to close the fastener that was refusing to cooperate.
"Here, let me get that," Mac said gently, placing his hands over Devon's.
Jo didn't miss Mac's eyes softening at what Devon had called him, and for some reason she felt a lump in her throat as she watched the seemingly simple and trivial act of Mac doing up the stubborn snap on Devon's shorts. They suited and needed each other in so many ways, she thought, both of them having been equally lost and desperate in their own way. But somehow these two had found one another, each filling a gaping void in other's life.
Mac dropped his t-shirt back over Devon's head. He couldn't hold back a small laugh at how it completely drowned the small boy. "How about we get you just like this but in your size?" he asked Devon.
"Could I wear it to pre-school?" Devon asked.
"Of course," Mac replied.
Devon's eyes shone.
"Now," Mac said, lifting the boy back up to his knee, "What shall we play for Jo next?"
Devon, still rather shy, leaned up and whispered in Mac's ear.
"Yeah?" Mac asked him.
Devon nodded.
"Ok," Mac said, picking up his bass and the stereo remote again.
Devon's shyness disappeared as soon the music started and Jo nearly laughed as he sang along at the top of his voice and out of tune in the way only a little kid could while keeping beat on the drum, "We got the 'oooooohs'," his lips pursed exaggeratedly as he drew out the 'ooooooh', "We got the 'aaaaaaaahs'…"
Mac's eyes sparkled as he played and sang (he actually has a pretty good voice, Jo thought, impressed), with as much spirit as the little boy on his knee, cuing Devon when to get quieter and when to ratchet up a particular riff, although Devon already knew where several of the dynamic points were and it was clear just how often the two of them did this. They finished off the song with a flourish, Jo applauding. Mac took Devon's hand and stood him up, the two of them taking a deep stage bow in her direction.
Two damaged souls had been reborn.
And there you have it. 'The End'. I really hope you guys liked it, and I want to send out a HUGE thank you for my reviewers! You guys rock and I love you all! And in case anyone was wondering (and as sort of a disclaimer), the two songs referenced are 'Purple Haze' by Jimi Hendrix and 'Oohs and Ahhs' by Need To Breathe. And for anyone who reads my other stuff, yes, the conclusion of this story means I will be getting back to my other fics in progress. Once again, THANK YOU for reading!
