A/N: Unbetaed. For LadyFest 2010. Post- Trojan Horst


She is bulletproof while he is not.

It doesn't come as a surprise, Marshall's a bit too namby-pamby for her at times (whatever the fuck that particular saying means) but it shakes her just how much she becomes defenseless when it comes to him. It is more than partnership - she has fear ingrained into the very marrow of her bones and now that he is here, because of Horst, now that he is here, because of her, now that she had to stick a straw into his wound so that he could breathe -

Let's just say it all becomes a little too real for her to handle.

Mary can handle her shit - just about everyone in the Albuquerque vicinity knows that.

What Mary cannot handle is abandonment. Not from her dad. Not from people. And certainly, not from Marshall. Not abandonment in the way that means forever. Not in the sorry, he's-just-checked-out-of-the-hotel-we-make-a-metaphor-for-life in kind of way.

So she sits by his bed (she doesn't hold his hand though, get those stupid images out of your head, their relationship is not one from a fucking romantic comedy with, ugh, Katherine Heigl or Meg Ryan in it, okay) and she occasionally feeds him some disparaging comments because Marshall is nothing if not a fighter prompted by her intimidation.

"I swear to God, Marshall, if you die on me, I'll kick your ass so hard for making me look for another friend."

"I'm okay," he mumbles, his voice low and hoarse.

"Good."

He kisses the inside of her wrist. She exhales.

"Stop being such a girl."

"I'll try."