A/N: Hello dear IPS readers! I have absolutely no idea how many of you are still out there reading IPS fanfiction - but this story has been hanging out there a LONG time waiting to be finished. I had the mother of all writer's blocks for years, but I finally know how to finish it! Please refresh your memory and re-read previous chapters, especially chapters 18 and 19 which have been heavily rewritten and revised. Then come back and read this update. I hope that a few of you are still out there and will read/review the end of this tale - almost 10 years in the making! xoxo, Strwbrygrl77

One Month Later

Albuquerque, NM

"I'm here - what do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to your father?"

Mary snorted. "You haven't been my father since the day you walked out and left me with a baby sister to raise all on my own."

"Where was Ginger- your mother?"

"At the local bar, getting drunk and laid."

"You watch your mouth!"

"I'm not your little girl, James. I'm all grown up with –"Mary swallowed.

James laughed. "Oh yes, you're what, nineteen? I remember being nineteen – I thought I had everything figured out too. Look, I just wanted to see you-"

"Well, now you have. Take a good look because this is the last time you'll ever see me." She stood up from the diner booth, but James grabbed her hand.

"Mary, I'm dying."

Mary's eyes flew open as the dream faded from her subconscious mind and a thunderclap sounded right overhead. She smiled as she remembered that Brandi had always been afraid of thunderstorms while she had secretly loved the noise and chaos of them. The rumble caused Marshall to stir beside her and he muttered in his sleep, rolled over and curled an arm around her waist. Mary scooted back into the warmth of his body, lacing their fingers together.

The storm had triggered memories of her sister, and Mary tried to ignore the ache in her heart. Brandi hadn't been at the airport to meet them and an entire month had gone by without contact. Mary had called, texted, emailed, and even gone by the house with Marshall but Brandi had refused to open the door. Mary understood Brandi's hurt and anger – but at the same time she was desperate to have her sister back. Patience had never been a virtue to which she aspired and even though Marshall was helping her as much as he could, she had had to physically stop herself from marching over to Brandi's house and picking the lock. Marshall reminded her that she could be arrested for breaking and entering – she could lose her job with that on her record.

But the deeper ache in her heart was Will. He was still giving both of them the silent treatment. He would be leaving for Harvard in less than a month and Mary was beginning to wonder if he would break his silence before he got on the plane. About a week ago he had started to answer their questions with one- or two-word answers, but the tension in the house was still thick.

"You're awake?"

Mary rolled to her back, so she could look into her husband's sleepy, concerned eyes. "The storm woke me a few minutes ago."

Marshall dropped a light kiss onto her lips before propping his head on his hand. "Tell me the truth, Mer," he insisted as his thumb rubbed circles over her stomach.

She tried to ignore the small sparks that his touch was igniting. "I am."

"Then what's bothering you?"

"The storm made me think of Squish – she hated thunderstorms, do you remember?"

He nodded. "She still does."

Mary winced, and Marshall lifted his hand to cup her face. "She will come around, Love. She just needs more time."

"And Will?"

Marshall exhaled loudly through his mouth as he rolled to his back and pulled Mary down into his arms, waiting to speak until her body relaxed and her head was nestled on his chest. "Have I ever told you what happened when Will found out you weren't dead – that I had let him live with the misconception that you were, and in his mind, I had been lying to him his whole life?"

Mary shook her head.

"Will was in fifth grade. He was ten years old, and his teacher had given the class the assignment of drawing out a family tree – to go back as far as they could – at least back to great-grandparents. I was proof-reading his final project and saw that he had written the word 'deceased' next to your name- why is that funny?"

"Only a child you raised would write 'deceased' instead of 'dead'!" Mary laughed.

"Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

"Please go on."

"I sat Will down and explained to him that you weren't dead – and he wanted to know how I knew. Of course, this was my opportunity to tell him that I had found you in the system, but I didn't."

"So you lied."

Marshall cleared his throat and tried to move away but Mary hung onto him. "Don't, Marshall. You and I are working through this. Don't push me away. I know your reasons for why you didn't tell him and why you didn't come find me back then. It doesn't mean I'm not mad or that I agree with your decision – but I'm trying to understand –"

Marshall's mouth stopped her flow of words and Mary lost herself in his kiss. On paper, they had been married for nineteen years, but with all their time apart, for all intents and purposes, they were still newlyweds that got easily distracted by their hormones and desire for each other.

"Sorry," Marshall pulled back, panting against her cheek. 'I just – I love you so damn much, Mer."

She grinned and raised a hand to his chest, pushing him back slowly. "Finish the story before we get distracted again, String Bean."

The smile slipped from his face. "I explained to Will that because we had never gotten divorced, if you had died, I would have been notified – eventually."

Mary scooted away as his words had the effect of cold water being dumped over her body. "I suppose you would have been – but to hear you say it so – so-"

He reached out and squeezed her hand. "I'm afraid our son didn't take it very well either. He went out and swam laps in the pool for an hour until I had to rescue him – he was on the point of collapse. He erased the word 'deceased' from his project and other than one-word responses to my questions, he didn't speak to me for two months."

"And you never thought that maybe you should-"

Marshall sat up in the bed, staring down at her with wide eyes. "Of course, I did! Every hour of every day, Mary! But your jacket said nothing about memory loss or head trauma! All I knew was that you were alive and well across the country and for some unknown reason had not come back to us! I wasn't going to put my son through rejection a second time-"

Mary surged to her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders "I know, I know, I'm sorry. I just – we can't go back, and yet I'm so frustrated with all the time I lost. And all the time I'm losing now. What if he doesn't forgive me? What if I lose him a second time? Marshall, I don't think I could-"

"Hush." He pulled her into his lap, rocking her back and forth. "He's been looking for you his whole life, wanting a relationship with his mother. He's angry and hurt with you and me right now – for the mistakes we've both made – but I do believe that given time, he'll come around."

She sniffed. "Before he leaves for Harvard?"

He sighed and rested his chin on top of her head. "If not by then, I think certainly by winter break."

Julia's eyes fluttered open as she felt Liam's lips cover hers. She deepened the kiss, winding her arms around his neck, pulling him back down into the bed with her. When her hands encountered fabric, her eyes flew open and she pulled away slightly to look at him in confusion. "You're leaving?"

Liam grinned. "It's after 7, Jules. Your parents will be home from Santa Fe in about an hour – I think it's best if I'm gone before then."

She frowned. "But they know we're having sex."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Knowing and seeing are two different things, babe."

"All right, I'll let you leave – on one condition."

"And that would be?"

"That you go home and talk to your parents."

"Jules-" Liam pulled away and reached for his jeans. "I really wish you would stop harping on this-"

"And I really wish you would stop being such a stubborn ass and listen to me." She reached out and snatched his jeans, throwing them across the room. Liam's eyebrows rose in surprise as she grabbed his hand and pulled him back down to sit with her on the bed, and with the other hand wrapped the sheet around her naked body. "You and I are not little kids anymore – so stop acting like one, ok? You've been looking for her your whole life – and she's at home right now, sleeping next to your father!"

"But she – and he-"

"Look, they screwed up – I know, and they hurt you, but they're your parents and whatever they did, it was out of love for you. So, give them a chance to explain their side of things to you before you leave – what's it going to hurt?"

Liam snatched his hand away and buried his head in his palms. "Me! What if they don't have any explanations? What if-"

"Babe, I can't stand to see you killing yourself with all these what ifs! The only way you're going to get the answers is if you talk to them."

He lowered his hands and his green eyes met her dark ones. "What if it's not what I want to hear?"

Jules shrugged a shoulder. "Then at least you'll know."

"Can we be perfectly clear that I'm doing this for you and not them?"

"I don't care so long as you do it, William Mann."

He huffed a breath and leaned in to kiss her. "Growing up sucks."

She laughed and let the sheet flutter to her lap. "There are some benefits-"

He groaned. "Jules – your parents-"

"Aren't going to be home for forty-five minutes." She breathed against his lips, pushed his open dress shirt off his shoulders, and tackled him to the mattress.

"Marshall! Move your ass! We're going to be late-"

The words died in Mary's throat as she swung around from the open front door to the driveway. Will was sitting on his motorbike, helmet in hands, staring at the house, and now, her. Mary felt her tea and the few bites of egg that Marshall had made her eat in her throat, threatening to come all the way up. She swallowed nervously as she stared back at her son, wishing that she knew him well enough to begin to guess what he was thinking.

Marshall crashed into her from behind, his hands coming up at the last moment to keep them both on their feet. "Mary! What the- I thought you said we were-" but then his words also faded away as his gaze swept over her shoulder and saw Will. "Good morning, son. We haven't seen you in a few days. How are you?"

"Fine," Liam cleared his throat. "I was wondering – but if I'm going to make you late-"

Mary dashed down the driveway until she was only a few steps from his bike. "No, Will, you're not. Marshall – Your dad and I have our weekly appointment with Dr. Finkel this morning."

Liam nodded. "That's right – it's Wednesday."

Marshall spoke as he was loading coffee go cups in his truck. "You are welcome to come with us. We could talk there."

"I don't think-"

"Please, Will-" Mary reached out but drew back when she saw the coldness in his eyes. "I was the first to make fun of therapy, but I have to admit, it has been helping me and your dad. I would really like you to come with us."

Liam looked back and forth between his parents for a long time before he nodded and waved towards the truck with his helmet. "All right, I'll follow you."

Of course, William Marshall Mann didn't really need to follow his parents to Dr. Finkel's office. He knew the way all too well since he had been in and out of therapy since he was ten years old.

His father had taken him the first time shortly after he found out that his mother was alive, when he had given his father the silent treatment for two months. Liam was so angry that his hero, the man who could do no wrong, had fallen from grace – had been lying to him for his entire life. His mother was alive out there – somewhere. Did he know where? His dad continued to remain silent on the subject of his mother's whereabouts even in their joint therapy sessions. The two Manns had stayed in therapy for a year, working on their damaged relationship and in the end, had emerged stronger than ever. At the end of it all, Liam couldn't stay angry with his dad – he was all he had.

When Liam was fourteen, Marshall was shot and injured on the job. Though it was a relatively minor injury, it had a profound effect on Liam. He quit most of his after-school activities, leaving the house only to go to school and come straight back home. He called Marshall several times a day just to check up on him, and he waited for him to come home at night before going to bed. But the nightmares were the worst. Liam would wake up every night, screaming for his dad, sweating and on the verge of a panic attack. Marshall took some vacation time and the two of them went back to Dr. Finkel to talk about Liam's fears of losing his father – something that he'd never even thought about before Marshall got shot.

And now he had two parents who worked for the US Marshals service – both of them put their lives on the line every day to keep other people safe. When they had gotten back to Albuquerque, his mom had accepted Uncle Stan's job offer and was now working alongside his dad. As angry as he was at the both of them for all the secrets and lies, they had kept from him, he was terrified of losing either one of them. What if something happened while he was away at Harvard?

"It's nice to see you again, Will. It's been a minute."

Liam nodded and tried hard not to fidget in the over-stuffed chair. Didn't this woman ever redecorate? I swear this is the same chair I sat in when I was 10, the only difference is now my feet can reach the floor.

"Call me Liam."

Dr. Shelley Finkel's eyebrows rose as she smiled. "Short for William?"

He nodded.

"I'll make a note of that," she scribbled on a big yellow legal pad. "I must say this is a surprise. Your parents didn't let me know you'd be joining them-"

He interrupted her. "-that's because they didn't know. It was a last-minute decision. I promised my – I decided to hear them out."

Mary made a silent note to herself to send Julia a big box of chocolates as a thank you for getting through to her son. She had no illusions that without the young woman's help, he still wouldn't be sitting here today.

Mary cleared her throat. "Thank you for coming, Will. It means – I'm glad you came."

"Are you?"

The coldness in his voice caused her to shiver and Marshall placed a hand on her knee for warmth and reassurance. "Yes, I am. I didn't want you to go away to Harvard without talking to me – to us. I want a chance to clear the air-"

Liam snorted. "I don't know if that's possible."

Mary felt her Irish temper rising. "Look, if you're not willing to hear me and your father out – if you've already made up your mind – then there's nothing we can say that will change it, so you might as well leave. There's the door. No one is keeping you here, Will."

"Mary," Marshall breathed her name on a sigh.

"No, Marshall," she dropped her hand to lace her fingers through his. "I'm tired of walking on eggshells around our own son who is having a temper tantrum like a three-year-old. He can either stay, act his age, listen, and participate in a family therapy session or leave – the choice is his."

Liam's throat was so tight and dry with emotion, he didn't know if he would be able to speak. He coughed to clear it, and then swallowed. "Mary-" he paused, looking between his parents, and then started over. "Mom, you said you knew you'd had a kid – that you'd known all these years."

Mary nodded, her eyes tearing up. "Yes, I did know."

"Then why –" Liam's voice broke, as the tears formed and began to leak out of his eyes, and run down his cheeks, making further speech impossible.

Mary let go of Marshall's hand, went to Liam's side, and knelt at his feet. "When I woke up in the hospital after the accident, I couldn't remember my name for two days. There was a kind nun by my bedside who was praying and reading to me from the Psalms and every time I panicked, she would comfort me, saying that my memory would return, and then she would pray some more. On the third day, when I woke up, she said: 'Good morning, angel. I hope you slept well. My name is Sister Agnes. Can you tell me your name?' and I said, 'Mary.' Sister Agnes clapped her hands and praised God for the return of my memory."

Liam shook his head. "I don't know what this has to do with-"

Mary stood and sat next to him on the arm of the chair. "It took me three days to remember my first name – another two to remember my last. They waited until I remembered my full name before telling me that I had recently delivered a child – and I was horrified! I barely remembered anything about myself – how could I have had a baby! Over the next couple of weeks, I remembered more about my childhood and yes, eventually I remembered your father. But I never thought the baby could be his because my memory told me we had broken up at graduation."

Liam shook his head in confusion. "None of this explains why you didn't look for me – birth certificates are public record."

She nodded. "You're right – and the reason is simple – I was a scared nineteen-year-old girl – one year older than you are right now." She paused and let those words sink in for her son. "I didn't know if the baby was Mark's or some frat guy's from the community college or if I had been raped by a stranger-"

"Mom, no! You had to know-"

She shrugged. "How? How was I to know? I was terrified that something awful had happened and that's what had caused my accident and memory loss in the first place."

"You never told me that," Marshall spoke from across the room.

"At the time, I didn't have any other explanation for what had happened to me – I had no reason to suspect that my father was involved – so naturally I assumed something catastrophic had happened with the father of my child-"

"And so, you decided to just walk away from your previous life?" Liam asked, but his voice held little anger now, just sadness as a tear dripped off his nose. "If only you had still been wearing your wedding ring – or if you remembered marrying Dad - would that have made a difference?"

"Would it have made a difference?" Mary repeated the words softly as she leaned in and wiped away his tears. "Oh Will, I would have run back so fast to you and your father – Marshall is the only man I've ever loved – and you, my sweet baby boy-" Mary took a deep breath. "The only reason I left you behind in the City when I went to meet my father was because I didn't want him to meet you. I wanted to keep James Shannon as far away from my family as possible – and in the end, he kept me from my family for eighteen years," Mary's voice broke on a sob. "I'm so sorry, Will. I should have looked up your birth certificate. I should have figured out a way to break the seal on Brandi's adoption – then I would have seen that Marshall's parents adopted her. I should have-" her voice broke on a sob.

"Mom, stop!" Liam jumped up, pulling Mary with him. "I'm sorry too, ok? For holding a grudge and not speaking to you and acting like a child-"

She smiled through her tears. "I'm afraid it comes naturally, Kid."

Liam wrapped her up in a bear hug. "I love you, Mom."

The words caught in her throat as she felt Marshall's arms go around both of them, holding them in a tight family embrace. She heard her husband talking to her son over her head in low tones and then they slapped each other on the back. Marshall let go first, and then she felt Will's arms fall away.

She looked into eyes that were so like her own and smiled. "I love you too, Will."

"Are you sure we don't have to go into the office this afternoon?"

"Will you stop worrying? I gave Stan an update on our session, told him that Will had joined us and explained that we were a bit wiped out. He told us to take the rest of the day and he'd see us tomorrow."

"Wow, he's much more understanding than my old boss-"

Marshall laughed as he pulled into the driveway and parked. "Well, you were on the fugitive task force – those guys are wound a bit tight. We're more relaxed in WitSec."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Sure thing." She reached for the door handle but paused as her eyes rested on something over his shoulder. "Do you recognize that vehicle?"

He turned and looked at the dark blue sedan parked across the street. "No, but it's a rental. I can't see the driver-"

"Do you think they are waiting for us?"

Her question was soon answered for when they exited the truck a tall, strawberry-blonde young woman got out of the sedan and crossed the street, calling out to them.

"Are you Mary Shannon?"

Mary stopped and stared at the stranger in front of her. They were nearly of the same height and build, though the other woman's hair had red highlights and her eyes were a more vivid shade of green.

But the resemblance was uncanny.

Mary frowned. "That's me – can I help you?"

The woman sighed in relief. "Finally! You aren't an easy woman to track down! First, I went to your address in Miami, but your landlord said you'd moved, and he didn't know where. Fortunately since we're both in the same line of work your old boss-"

Mary held up a hand to stop the woman's ramble. 'I'm sorry – the same line of work? Who exactly are you?"

"Oh, my goodness. Where are my manners? I'm Skye – my father was James Wiley Shannon – I'm your half-sister."

There was a strange buzzing sound in Mary's ears as Skye continued to grin at her.

"Mary? Are you all right?"

Marshall's voice seemed to come from far away as the ground tilted and Mary swooned, falling right into her husband's arms.

"Mary!"

A/N: Whoa! Another child of James' showed up - what does Skye want? And Mary fainted - is she all right? Will Brandi ever come around? Stay tuned for more and drop me a line in review - it feeds the muses!