A/N: We have finally come to the end of this journey and I hope those of you along for the ride have enjoyed it. This chapter is dedicated to the amazing sfchemist for all her help and encouragement.

Epilogue: Responses and Responsibilities

Three weeks later: Albuquerque

"Mary," Marshall whispered for the second time, his breath tickling her ear as he leaned down over her sleeping form.

She grunted and he pulled back in anticipation of the hand that came flying up to swat him away. Deciding a different approach was in order, he reached down and grabbed the sheet that was covering her.

"Don't you dare," cautioned a muffled voice from under the pillow.

"Then get up already, sleepy head."

"No! It's Saturday. Now leave me alone," she ordered, pulling the pillow tighter over her head.

"But they're going to be here soon," Marshall pouted.

Receiving another grunt in reply, he gathered the sheet tighter in his hands and pulled it off of his bed to reveal her naked form. The pout disappeared, replaced by a smile as his eyes took her in. He still couldn't believe that she was actually here with him. It was a dream come true, literally, and he knew a day wouldn't go by that he didn't pinch himself just to make sure.

"You are so going to pay for that, Mister!" Mary threatened as she pulled her head out from under the pillow and looked up at him.

"Promise?" he quipped back as he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her off the bed.

"Yes. And I always keep my promises," she replied in a low and sultry voice.

"Good," he said with devilish grin. Then putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face the bathroom and giving her a swat on the behind he said, "Now, get in the shower."

She glared back at him before disappearing into the bathroom and he smiled, knowing full well that he would pay dearly later.

And he couldn't wait.

***

Mary emerged freshly showered, dressed and still glaring at Marshall just in time to see Margaret and Robert walk up the path.

She was suddenly grateful that Marshall had taken a rain check on her promise as there was no way they'd have had time for what she'd had in mind. Smiling to herself, she started plotting and wondered just exactly how long his parents planned on staying.

Waiting in the living room, Mary let Marshall open the door and have a second with his parents.

"It's so good to see you," his mother said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You look wonderful, sweetie. Is something different?"

"Uh, no," Marshall responded hesitantly as his mother walked past him, "I don't think so."

"Marshall," Robert said holding out his hand, "How are you, son?"

"I…I'm good, Dad," Marshall replied as he shook his dad's hand, touched by the amount of genuine concern he heard in his father's voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know," his dad said, trying to make light of the situation before moving to join his wife in the other room.

"Mary!" Margaret exclaimed when she saw her in the living room. "I was hoping you'd be here. How are you? You look wonderful." Just then, the realization hit her. Smiling, she looked from Mary to her son and back.

"I'm fine, thanks," Mary replied, feeling her cheeks redden at Margaret's suddenly knowing smile. "How was the trip?"

"It was just fine, just fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, there are a few things I need from the car," Margaret said as she turned to Marshall. "Would you help me bring them in?"

"Sure, Mom."

"Peg, I told you I'd get…"

"You heard the doctor, Robert," Margaret said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "You are not supposed to exert yourself. Now stop being so stubborn and try to relax." That said, she walked out of the room with Marshall following behind.

Turning to Mary, Robert extended a hand and said, "Mary."

After eyeing him warily a moment, she offered her hand saying, "Robert. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks, much better," he replied. After pausing a moment, he continued, "And you're well? And Marshall?"

"Yes, we're both fine."

Mary and Robert looked around the room awkwardly. Mary finally asked him if he'd like something to drink and was only too happy to head to the kitchen when he accepted her offer. She took her time finding a glass and filling it, thankful when Marshall and Margaret walked in.

She watched as Marshall set the grocery bags on the table while asking his mother if she knew where everything was in the kitchen. When Margaret simply nodded yes, Mary decided to speak up.

"Marshall, would you take this to your father for me?" she asked sweetly, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her. Then, she added sarcastically, "Pleeease?"

"Okay, then, if you two ladies will excuse me." Smiling at them, he took the glass of water from Mary and left the room.

"Would you mind handing me that bag, Mary?" Margaret asked.

"Sure. So what is all this stuff anyway?"

"I thought you could help me with dinner."

"Um, I'm not exactly Betty Crocker," Mary admitted. "Besides, we haven't even had lunch yet. Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?

"Not at all. The best things in life, including our dinner, take time, dear. It was once said, 'patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish'."

Something about the way Margaret looked at her as she spoke told Mary that she wasn't just referring to cooking. She committed the words to memory as she continued to unpack the bags on the table.

"Ribs!" Mary shouted in excitement. "You're making ribs."

"No, Mary," Margaret said placing a hand on Mary's shoulder. "We're making ribs. I think it's about time I passed on the family recipe."

***

While Mary was preparing for her initiation into Margaret's exclusive club, Marshall and his father were left to their own devices in the other room.

"You really do look good, Dad," Marshall observed. "I'm glad the doctor okay'd you to make the trip." He sat silently contemplating a moment before deciding it was time to just put his feelings out there. "Honestly, I was more worried that you wouldn't want to come."

"Marshall," his dad said, rubbing his hand through his hair as he settled back into the chair. "I think I owe you an apology and an explanation."

"Dad, you don't…"

"No," Robert interrupted. "Let me do this. I need to do this. Not just for you, but for myself as well."

Marshall inclined his head in his father's direction encouraging him to continue, as well as his undivided attention.

"I'm not going to make excuses for myself, Son, but there are just certain things that I think you should know. We've gone over the details of what went down with Harrison all those years ago, but we never talked about the effect it had on me, and ultimately, our family.

A few months after I killed Harrison, your brother got sick again. Do you remember how well he'd been doing before that?" Robert asked, smiling at the memory as Marshall nodded in response.

"This time, he just kept getting worse and I felt like it was my fault. My son was being taken away from me as punishment for taking away a boy's father." Marshall saw tears in his father's eyes that matched his own and for the first time he began to look at his brother's death from someone else's perspective. "And the funny thing is, I didn't even know that Harrison called his son Mikey until a few weeks ago. Ironic, isn't it?"

Smiling weakly, Marshall remembered when Reynolds referred to Michael Harrison as Mikey and the sick feeling it had caused in his stomach. He had wondered at the time if his father had made the connection.

"Anyway," Robert continued, "when your brother died I felt responsible. That, somehow, his death had been a direct result of my actions and being around you and your mother…the guilt…"

"Dad," Marshall said wanting to comfort him.

"No, please let me finish," Robert said as he held his hand up, gesturing for Marshall to stop. "Thankfully, your mother understood me well enough to stand by me, unwavering, despite the fact that she had also lost a son. I don't know how she did it, but I thank God everyday that she did."

Robert stared at his hands, unable to look his son in the eye as he said, "But you, you and your brother were so close. He was your entire world and all I could think about was how disappointed you'd be in me if you ever found out I was responsible. Looking back now, I know I was wrong to feel that way, but at the time I distanced myself. And after awhile, I didn't know how to repair the damage."

"It's not your fault. You do know that now, right?" Marshall asked concerned about his father's state of mind.

"I know, I do. It doesn't make facing it any easier, though."

"Well, I wasn't exactly easy to approach at the time," Marshall began. "I was angry, really angry, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't account for the fact that you had your own way of grieving. You didn't respond like I thought you should and instead of talking to you, I just redirected all that anger toward you. And over the years, I convinced myself that I was a disappointment to you."

"Marshall, you have never been a disappointment to me, ever," Robert insisted, "and it's my fault if you ever felt that way. You're ten times the man I am and I have never been prouder that I'm your father."

"Thanks, Dad," Marshall said, stifling back the tears.

"Just tell me, Son. Are you happy here in Albuquerque? And doing what you're doing?" Robert asked, concerned that maybe his son had only chosen the path he chose to try and please him.

"Yeah, Dad," Marshall said confidently. "I'm very happy."

"Glad to hear it. Now, what do you suppose those two have been up to all this time," he said looking toward the kitchen.

"I don't know, Dad," Marshall said with a smile, "and I don't think I want to."

***

Mary and Marshall had taken his parents out to lunch and then spent the afternoon showing off the various sights in and around Albuquerque.

Now, the conversation was at a minimum as they all sat around the table devouring the barbecued ribs.

"Mmm, Mom," Marshall said, licking his fingers as he finished off his last rib and reached for his beer, "I don't think I could ever get enough of your ribs. You're going to have to start overnighting them from Colorado."

"No need to worry about that, sweetie," Margaret said, winking at Mary, "the secret family recipe is in good hands and I'm sure Mary would be glad to make them for you, as long as you ask nicely."

Marshall nearly choked on the sip of beer he'd taken at his mother's insinuation of Mary being family. He already felt that she was, but he couldn't believe his mom would say it so blatantly right in front of Mary and he blushed.

"Geez, Mom, no pressure or anything," Marshall mumbled back.

"Okay," Margaret said, diverting everyone's attention, "since Mary and I worked so hard on this meal, I think we are going to go sit out on the porch and enjoy the evening. I'm sure you two can handle a few dishes. Right, Mary?"

"Excellent idea, Margaret," Mary said, standing up and following her out of the room, leaving Marshall and Robert behind.

"Oh, Mary, I almost forgot," Margaret said as she grabbed her purse before heading out the front door.

Mary was trying to figure out what it was that Margaret was searching while she watched her rummage through the bag. Finally, she saw her pull the item out triumphantly.

Recognizing it, Mary couldn't hide the hint of sadness that flashed in her eyes.

"You forgot it at the house," Margaret said, handing the monkey to Mary.

Mary held it in her hands and studied it. She still couldn't figure out what was so special about the stupid toy, but she smiled as she remembered how much Matty had loved the thing.

"Thank you for bringing it," Mary said, still lost in her thoughts.

She had gone with Stan to transfer Matty the day after Robert's surgery. Since Robert's condition was still critical, Marshall needed to stay with his mom in Colorado and couldn't make the trip. Watching him say goodbye to Matty had been heart wrenching.

"You never did tell me what happened to him, where he went," Margaret said.

Mary remembered every minute of the trip to Des Moines. There was another team waiting for them when they arrived at the airport and Matty's mother was with them. It had taken all of Mary's strength to act as if she was unaffected by the situation, but inside she felt the ache in her heart and she had known she was going to miss the little guy. She had been totally unprepared for the hug and heartfelt thank you that had come from the woman as Mary returned her son to her.

"We don't 'know' where he is," Mary said, indicating that just the opposite was true. Then looking up from the toy to meet Margaret's eye she added, "But, he's fine. He's going to be just fine."

***

After seeing his parents to their car, Marshall collapsed, exhausted, on the sofa next to Mary.

"Whew! I thought they'd never leave," Mary blurted out as she let her head fall onto his shoulder.

"What? I thought you liked my parents," Marshall said as his lips pursed into a pout.

"Oh, stop pouting, Doofus," Mary said, swatting him in the stomach with the back of her hand. "I do like them. Well, you mom anyway. Your dad and I just don't quite mesh well. But that said, I'd hang out with them before my family any day."

They shared a laugh over her last statement as Marshall said, "Yeah, I saw you two when we were out this afternoon. I was starting to worry that you'd hit someone, or something." Then rubbing his still sore hand with the other, he added, "I just don't recommend brick walls."

Mary reached out and took his hand in hers. She seemed lost in thought as she lightly caressed the small scar that was still visible. Then she jerked away, surprising Marshall as she stood up.

"Mare?"

"Wait, I'll be right back," she said walking out of the room leaving Marshall wondering what she was up to.

"Here," she said, handing him the monkey as she sat down back next to him. "Your mom brought it. We forgot it at the house." She watched the expression on his face and recognized it as being similar to the one she had worn when his mom had given it to her.

"I bet he misses Mr. Monkey," he said sadly.

"Well, that's why I'm giving him to you. You can make sure he gets it."

"What do you mean?" Marshall questioned innocently.

"Don't even!" Mary threatened in response. "I know you better than you think and there is no way you'd just let Matty go. Why do you think I'm not worried about him?" she asked rhetorically before continuing. "Because I know you'll tell me if there is something to worry about. So no more talking about it, just make sure he gets the stupid thing."

Marshall reached out for her, but before he could pull her to him she was up on her feet and looking down at him seductively.

"Now," Mary said as she reached out for his hand, "I believe we have some unsettled business from this morning."

"Hmm…," Marshall moaned. He grabbed her hand and pulled himself up, tossing Mr. Monkey aside. "I seem to remember promises being made."

"Well, let's see what we can do about making sure they are kept," Mary said over her shoulder as she led him toward the bedroom.

The End

Thank you to everyone and I would love to know your thoughts now that we are at the end.

The quote that Margaret references above, "Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish" is John Quincy Adams.