Greetings from tahitiliz!
A/N: As my first chapter story, I tried to capture and develop snippets of Chris and Mary's interaction throughout the series in a collection of one shots. I'm following the episodes' order with the intent of writing an "epilogue" chapter at the end. I hope you enjoy it and please leave me a review!
The title of this story was inspired by Rumi's quote, "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." Both Chris and Mary have incredible tragedy and challenges in their past that have caused them to build up barriers. I hope the way in which those barriers become shattered are illustrated here.
The following takes place during the episode Witness.
Disclaimer: No profit is being made from this story and the characters are not mine.
Nothing made sense. Nothing was real. Nothing mattered. Not until her son was back in her arms.
Hellish desolation came over her again. It didn't seem possible. She went to bed and he was right there next to her. She could touch him he was so close. How was it that she woke up and he was gone?
Pacing relentlessly was the only thing Mary could do to ignore her feelings of powerlessness. She created a steady, heavy stream of steps back and forth, focusing on nothing but her actions and taking little notice to the way the sun rose from dawn until sheets of mid-morning sunlight came through The Clarion's window.
Despite Mary's health her body finally lost its adrenaline peak and she slowed down to catch her breath, stopping a few feet away from her front door. Just as she began to lean over and breathe heavily, the emotional sorrow caught up with her again and she began to sob uncontrollably. She clutched both her sides desperately, unable to keep the rolling heaves of cries from overtaking her completely. She almost toppled over in her delirious grief but the sound of her door rushing open was enough for Mary to regain balance and stand back up.
Chris Larabee's black duster floated at his heels and black boots clicked hard on the wooden floor as he entered The Clarion. He abruptly threw his gaze around the room and upon seeing Mary began to cross the short distance between them. Startled and suddenly concerned with modesty, Mary looked down at herself, certain she was still dressed in her nightgown. She was surprised that she wore a purple calico dress, buttoned up for full decency – and then remembered she had changed after Vin convinced her to return home from running around the town that morning. He had insisted he would rouse the rest of the Seven to look for her son, as long as she went home to wait for him.
Mary looked back up to Chris, breaking her recollection. Her hands trembled as she ran them lightly over her stomach and realized she had no idea what happened between coming home and now. She was completely out of sorts.
"Mary." Chris' voice brought her back to the present as he came to her.
She felt her cheeks ablaze and fresh tears glide down from her eyes. The desperation kneading her soul reminded her of the day of Stephen's death. She'd remembered she never wanted to feel that way again, yet here she was, nearly a year later. If Billy's gone too… a clenching fear ghosted across her mind and she began to cry with more intensity.
She suddenly sobbed uncharacteristically. He reached her in seconds. She clutched his arm as soon as he came within reach.
"Oh God, Chris, Billy -!" and couldn't say any more. He took hold of her upper arms, his grip neither gentle nor firm. She sucked in two breaths but found her lung capacity was three times smaller from her panic. Yet Chris was patient. Mary took a few more moments and finally regained her senses.
"Did you find anything?" She gasped again for air. Chris felt a chill in his body and looked away.
"No. We didn't find anything." He glanced back at her expression and felt a keen tightness upon seeing the despair in her eyes. They'd searched all morning, ever since Vin stomped into his hotel room just after the sun rose. But they'd found nothing. Billy had just taken off. Chris wondered if he had taken the young boy aside like Mary had asked, maybe the little kid wouldn't be gone. She didn't deserve this pain, it was completely unnecessary. Setting his mouth in a thin line, Chris made up his mind. He needed to fix things.
"We're heading out soon, Mary. We'll comb this country through and through. We'll find him, I swear."
Mary would have spit in the face of any other man who said those words, who expected her to have blind faith in him. But she learned to trust the one standing before her unreservedly, even if all other logic said to disbelieve him. Her son may be missing but if anyone was to bring him back, Mary felt it was Chris.
Looking away briefly, Mary ran a hand over her face before she returned her stare to him. "Please Chris. He's all I have left." Her voice threatened to crack but she kept it in place even though she felt that trying not to cry in front of the gunslinger was like trying to swim in a storm at sea. It was nearly impossible. Chris had always had a comforting influence over her but Mary questioned today if that influence was too consoling for propriety's sake. She could not allow herself to lose control again.
She released her other hand from his arm and turned back to her desk to tend to some imaginary chore. She knew he would see right through the façade, he would know it was impossible for her to do any work or concentrate on anything besides the fact that her son was missing. But Mary needed the lie of normalcy, even just for a moment. She needed to grasp to a sense of sanity for a brief time because she felt like she was anything but sane that morning.
Chris watched her for no more than six seconds, reliving briefly the unadulterated torture of losing a child. He knew Mary was living in the lowest circle of hell at that moment and if there was anything he could do to bring her out of that he wouldn't stop until he did. His mouth formed a thin line again, his stare became hardened and he walked out the door with a sudden directness.
Just after the door clicked shut, Mary realized she was unable to pace any longer. She was unable to think or see anything but Billy's face. It was less than four minutes after Chris left that she ran to her back apartment, grabbed a bag and began to stuff necessary items in it: Stephen's old revolver, food, money for ransom. She slung on a heavy brown coat and hurried out The Clarion's door. The seven men were just outside her office, saddling up. Mary stepped to her horse without thinking, slinging her bag over her horse and preparing to ride. But a firm grip on her waist halted her. She turned to see a familiar face.
"You'd better stay." Chris' urgent and concerned voice hovered.
"But I want to help." She said as confidently as possible, though she didn't feel anything but weak.
"What if he comes back?" Chris pressed urgently.
"I don't know." She sighed wearily, looking around the street. "Maybe you're right."
"Yeah. Yeah I am." She looked at him, anxiety dancing on her features and his eyes steadfast on hers.
Nathan ran up to them, reporting that he had no luck in searching around town. Tired of hearing all the dead ends, Mary headed back toward the boardwalk, feeling no less distressed than when she first found Billy missing. As the men mounted their horses and began to split up, Mary prayed to God to bring her son back. She'd lost track of how many times she'd repeated that prayer in the last six hours.
"Mary?" Chris said her name from on top of his horse. She retracted from her musings and looked at him again. "We'll find him." She nodded numbly, watching Chris and Vin ride off.
As she watched Chris' retreating figure, Mary instantly recognized her own needs in the midst of the chaos of her missing child – she needed someone to comfort her, to let her cry. To reassure her everything would be all right in the end.
So far Chris had come as close as social decorum allowed in doing all those things.
She didn't want him to go, felt a need for his presence to comfort her, but needed him to find Billy more. Mary chided herself for the feelings coursing through her as she watched him. Her son was missing and she felt selfish to acknowledge any other emotions other than despair at Billy's absence.
All she could do was look away, wondering if it was possible her torrential despair had churned up feelings for Chris that wouldn't normally be there. But Mary undoubtedly knew one thing – she wanted both Chris and Billy to return, together.
Thank you for reading! I hope to post chapter two within a week. I would love it if you left me feedback- I need to improve my writing all I can before I take the GRE!
