Jackie's heart melted as Gil slid down the wall to sit beside the girl sitting there with her shoulders bowed, knees pulled into her chest, and face buried against her arms.
One large hand went to the back of her neck.
Same as it did Malcolm's whenever they found him in a similar state.
Those calloused fingers would gently squeeze, offering silent comfort, and much needed support.
Not for the first time, and Jackie knew it wouldn't be the last, she found herself thinking about what an amazing father her husband would be.
That he already is, she realized as Sorcha slowly raised her head to look at him with swollen, red-rimmed eyes.
"Come here, kiddo."
He didn't have to ask twice. A smile curved her lips as Sorcha twisted to pillow her head on Gil's chest. They hadn't been blessed with children of their own but that didn't make them childless. We are parents, she realized as Gil's eyes met hers. We have the pleasure of sharing two unique children with their biological parents.
It wasn't a situation she regretted being in or ever doubted.
Gil never had to ask her if she was okay with his bringing Malcolm into their home, their family.
Nor had she ever given him any doubt about how okay with it she was.
Malcolm became hers the moment those wounded eyes peeked at her from between the strands of his glossy hair.
A lonely, sad, and deeply haunted boy desperately in need of love and affection.
Comfort and support.
Safety and security.
Things she and Gil could, and did, happily give him.
Slowly, Malcolm crawled out of his shell. His rampant curiosity, unlimited enthusiasm, and burning desire to learn anything that caught his fancy enriched their lives in ways neither she or Gil could ever have expected.
More than that, Malcolm also helped fill the void left inside her each time a pregnancy test came back negative.
He was her bright-boy.
Her ray of sunshine.
He brought more brightness into their lives when he met Sorcha.
Jackie had secretly hoped he'd meet a nice girl at Harvard. One who'd help him with his feelings of self-worth. Show him he deserved happiness. Teach him what a healthy relationship was.
More than anything she wanted Malcolm to fall in love.
Marry.
Have the children she wasn't able to have.
He's found the girl. He just hasn't figured out he's in love with her.
He would, though.
Their bright-boy was a smart boy.
A good boy.
Nothing like the man sitting in a cushiony cell at Claremont Psychiatric, unrepentant about killing twenty-three people, and uncaring how his actions left his son so traumatized he could barely function some days.
We're breaking Martin Whitly's hold on Malcolm. Sorcha started it when she got him to agree to not go see his father. It was now up to the rest of them to help convince him to cut his father out of his life completely.
Jackie turned when a throat cleared behind her. Exhaustion lined Doctor Wilson's craggy face but his eyes were cool, calm, confident.
"He's in recovery." A tired smile creased the man's lips. "I must tell you he's a lucky young man. If you waited any longer that appendix might have burst and caused us some more serious problems."
"Is my mom with him?" Sorcha asked as she and Gil joined them. "He wanted her there with him when he came out of surgery. He was clear about that before you took him to surgery."
"Erin's with him, kiddo," Doctor Wilson assured her with a smile. "She stayed with him through the surgery and went with him to recovery just as promised."
Sorcha sagged against Gil with a small nod. "Thank you, Doctor Wilson."
"Come on," he said, indicating for them to follow. "I'll take you back so you can see him."
It wasn't like he had to ask twice.
As they followed Doctor Wilson, Jackie couldn't help but think how odd they must seem to people. Them out here comforting Sorcha while her mother was back caring for Malcolm.
An odd little family she heard one nurse remark. They were. She admitted it. They were an odd little family.
And the boy unconscious in a hospital bed is who brought us all together.
Made them a family.
Jackie took Gil's hand as Sorcha quickly moved to where her mother stood beside Malcolm's bed.
"Mom…"
"He's alright, honey." Erin Corbin put an arm around her daughter before smiling at Jackie and then Gil. "Our bright-boy's alright."
And he always will be, Jackie thought as she went around the bed to take hold of Malcolm's other hand. Because we'll always make sure he is. That we all are.
Because they were a family.
An odd little family.
But still a family.
And that was alright with her.
A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!