See part 1 for disclaimer…

From part 5…

It was Thursday and Mac had secured early so that she could take Calum to the appointment with the psychologist. She was just leaving to pick him up from Harriet's. Luckily, Harriet had volunteered to look after Calum in the day while Mac was at work. Mac was enormously relieved to have Calum looked after by somebody she knew and trusted, rather than someone she didn't.

"Yep, do you have something you need to talk about?" Mac replied, "I could spare a minute…"

"No," Harm shook his head, "I just wanted to say 'good luck.' Not that Calum will need it. They're bound to see what a fantastic little boy he is."

"Thanks," Mac told him, "I'll give you a call when we get home, to tell you how it went."

"Okay," Harm nodded, "Great."

And with that, Mac left.

Part 6…

"Ms. MacKenzie and Calum, please," the doctor spoke, leaning out of his office.

"Right, Calum," Mac picked the little boy up from where he was playing with lego, "It's time to go and see the doctor…We'll come back to the toys, later."

Calum didn't make any fuss.

Three quarters of an hour later, the nurse left the office. She led Calum by the hand, back to Mac, who had been asked to give the doctor some time alone with Calum to run some 'developmental tests.'

"Hey, buddy!" Mac greeted the boy, "Did you have a good time?"

Calum seemed as laid back as ever, even after this long period of assessment.

"Ma'am," the nurse returned, twenty minutes later, "If you could just go speak with the doctor? I'll keep an eye on Calum while you're in there."

Mac nodded then knelt and explained to Calum exactly where she was going and that she would be long. He offered up no protest.

"Good afternoon, Ms. MacKenzie," the doctor greeted her as she entered the office and took a seat, "I'm sorry that we've kept you so long. We needed to run a few more specific tests."

"What kind of tests?" Mac asked.

"Just a few more…diagnostic tests…"

"Tests diagnostic of what, exactly?" Mac asked, fed up of all the talk in riddles. She was now starting to feel decidedly uneasy.

"Ms. MacKenzie," the doctor hesitated, which set off the alarm bells in Mac's head, "There's no easy way to put this…I believe that Calum has a form of autism…"

Mac was still reeling from the shock, three hours later. She was just watching Calum sitting on the floor, playing with his cars.

"Sure," she told herself, "he's lining up some of them, but there was nothing else ritualistic about his behaviour. All children are like that, though, aren't they?"

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her front door. She opened it to find that it was Harm.

"Hey there, Marine. I thought you were going to call…"

He cut off though, when he saw the look on Mac's face.

"What is it?" he frowned, "Is there something wrong?"

Mac just nodded and led him into the living room.

"Mac?" Harm asked, looking from her to Calum, who was still playing on the carpet.

"Would you say that there is something different about Calum?" she asked him.

Harm looked at the little boy.

"Yeah, he's cute and well-behaved!" he joked.

"No, really," Mac insisted, "Something that makes him different from other kids."

Harm looked again and shook his head.

"He's quiet but content…What did that doctor tell you?"

"That Calum has autism," Mac spoke, softly.

"No way!" Harm shook his head, "No way…"

"He said that it is a very mild form, but that Calum is none-the-less autistic," Mac continued, "He thought that it might be why his Mother left him…I've been thinking about the possibility, but it just makes no sense. Calum's mother said that she wouldn't consider leaving him with me unless it was what was best for him. How can I be what is best for him? I have no experience of being a mother, let alone to one with special needs…"

It was all getting too much for Mac and Harm could see it, so he moved to comfort her.

"No, Mac, it can't be," he went with his gut instinct, which had always served him well in the past, "It has to be a misdiagnosis. I've heard about all of these so-called psychometric tests. So many children show signs of autism. It's a part of their development, they all go through these stages…"

"Do you think that I should ask for a second opinion?" Mac asked.

"Yeah," Harm nodded, "Definitely. Calum may be a quiet child, but I very much doubt that he has autism."

"But I can't understand why the doctor seemed so sure…was he seeing something that we aren't?" Mac asked.

"No," Harm insisted, "The doctor was just looking at the results of his so-called psychometric tests. Mac, there's wide-spread misdiagnosis of developmental disorders. We're too free with out definition. Our diagnostic statistics are much higher than every other country in the world. It's not that we have higher incidence, it's that we're just too quick to give a child a label like 'autism.' It's the same with ADHD, dyslexia…"

Mac just looked teary-eyed, so Harm led her to the kitchen, out of Calum's line of sight.

"Mac…" he pulled her into a hug as tears began to run down her cheeks

Eventually, she pulled herself together and explained, "It's just that the doctor told me…"

"What?" Harm urged, gently, "What did that quack tell you?"

"That…that it was highly unlikely that Calum's Mom would come back to get him. And that his diagnosis would seriously hamper their efforts to get him into a permanent home. He'd most likely end up in a group home, with other children 'like him.'"

"Oh, Mac," Harm sighed, "I'm sure that isn't going to happen, even if Calum does have autism…and I'm sure that he doesn't. You and I will fight to make sure that that doesn't happen to him, okay?"

Mac just looked him in the eye and nodded, wiping away the tears from her face. Harm comfortingly held his hand to her cheek and she reached up and held it there, trying to absorb his strength, like the first time she had heard of Webb's death.

"How are you so sure?" Mac asked, her gaze locked with his.

"I just know, Mac," he told her. And that was good enough for Mac.

They stood just like that for a minute and Mac suddenly felt the compulsion to rise up and kiss him. But she didn't get to do anymore than think it, because they were interrupted by Calum.

"Daddy!"

Calum had been so absorbed in his play that he had not noticed Harm arrive.

"Hey there, you!" Harm exclaimed with smile and went to the child, "Aunty Mac tells me that you were a good boy at the doctors, today. Good job, buddy!"

Mac smiled as she watched them together. Yes, Harm was right. There was no way that Calum had the problems that the doctor was describing.

"No, Ma'am," Bud shook his head, "I would definitely say 'no.'"

"Definitely not," Harriet agreed with her husband, "Did you let David know that you wanted a second opinion?"

"Yes," Mac sighed, "but he said that it doesn't work that way. He says that the doctor is well respected in the developmental field and that social services was willing to accept his diagnosis."

"In other words," Harm summarised, They're giving up on him."

"This can't happen, Mac," Harriet spoke up, with urgency, "If he's put in a foster home with children with autism, won't he regress?"

Mac nodded, "Yes, that's what I'm afraid of…"

Over the next week, Mac did everything she could think of to bring Calum out of his shell. She read him books, played games with him, took him on day-trips, anything that might prompt him to start interacting with the world around him. Bud, Harriet and especially Harm pitched in whole-heartedly. But they didn't see Calum make any progress, that week.

"We'll just keep on trying," Harriet dismissed, "It'll take some time, that's all."

So, the next weekend, they went on a big trip to the beach. Harriet sat under a big beach umbrella as they played in the sand. Little AJ, Jimmy and Bud were busy trying to get a kite into the air. Calum, meanwhile, seemed to be fascinated with the water. For a while, Harm and Mac each held him by the hand and had a great time running towards the water as it went out, then running away as it flooded back in.

"C'mon, mister!" Mac spoke up, after a while, scooping Calum up, "I think it's about time that you got some more sun-cream on."

After that, Calum sat in the sand with the twins, sifting handful after handful of the fine silt through his fingers.

After a long day, Harriet was drying the boys off and getting them changed back into their clothes. Little AJ was the first one dressed and went over to his Godmother and Auntie for a hug. Presently, Calum perked up from where he was still playing with sand. He got to his feet and brushed the sand from his hands.

"Please, Mommy!" he went to where Mac was sitting with AJ on her knee, "Please…me have cuddles too…"

Mac's mouth fell open, as this was the first time she had seen him use so many words in one sentence.

Quickly, she helped him up onto her knee and little AJ was more than willing to share her for a little while.

"Calum," Mac tried, a few days later, "Where's Mommy?"

Calum just grinned and pointed to her, thinking that she was playing some sort of game with him.

Mac just smiled, sadly, gave him a hug and let him get back to his toys.

"He's definitely playing a lot more with the other children," Harriet mentioned, when Mac came to pick him up, the next week.

"But he's still behind other children of his own age," Mac sighed.

"Little AJ's teacher told me the same thing, once," Harriet shared with her, "That was in the fall, but by the next spring, he was starting to read by himself."

Mac looked intrigued.

"Children don't make steady, regular progress," she continued, "Some things come easy, other don't, sometimes a lot of things are harder for them to get the hang of, but then, one day; poof! They just get it and they start making leaps and bounds. Every child is different. That's just how Calum operates, I'm sure. He'll take a little bit longer, but he'll get there, eventually.

Mac sorely hoped that this would be the case.