12 Hours Later…
12 Hours Later…
Mary opened her eyes, awoken by an info-mercial that played on the TV. She groaned, rubbing her eyes. She didn't recall when she had fallen asleep, but glancing at the clock on the TV she realized it was 9:30. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and called Stan, who had picked Marshall up and stayed with him over night
"Stan"
"Hey…How'd last night go?" Mary heard Stan sigh into the phone.
"Hold on." He muttered. "Marshall, I'm going to step outside and grab the paper." Mary heard Marshall respond but she couldn't make out the words. After a moment Stan drew a deep breath and began his run-down.
"He got home and took a shower-"
"Another shower? Didn't he take one at the hospital?"
"Yeah… I don't know. Anyway, after that we watched the news-"
"Wait. Marshall suffers a traumatizing event and you watch the news? Good god."
"Are you going to let me finish?" Stan quipped, his patience already worn thin.
"Yeah sorry." Mary mumbled.
"After that he fell asleep."
"And judging by the town of your voice, it didn't end there."
"Exactly. He had a couple of nightmares and woke me up."
"Oh…" Mary breathed in the phone "Poor Marshall…" It was the first time she may have ever said that comment and actually been sincere. Stan sighed again, clearly tired after his long night.
"Are you coming over? I'm not going to be able to miss work today. And there's no way he's coming in."
"Can't he stay by himself." Mary asked, wondering why Stan felt her partner needed a babysitter.
"He doesn't want to be alone."
"Oh…Then yeah, I'll be there in a few."
Over their lifetime, people develop unique was of coping. Some people seek out the comfort of others. Some simply cry. Others talk about it to a close friend. But some people, who weren't capable of developing a coping device that was beneficial for them, sink into themselves. These types of people usually go into law enforcement…
"Hey Marshall." Mary greeted, sitting down on the couch next to her partner. Marshall hardly looked up at her. "How ya doin'?" She asked, trying to keep up her cheery façade. Marshall shrugged. Mary looked at him, biting at her lip.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked. Marshall glanced at her, and she caught a glimpse of dull blue eyes.
"I don't really remember anything." His voice was flat, lacking his normal sarcasm.
"What do you remember?" Marshall squinted as he tried to recall.
"You dropped me off. I went in. She was making lunch…or dinner…She gave me a drink.-"
"You took a drink? From her?" Mary's eyes widened. 'Marshall should have known better' she thought, but managed to keep her mouth closed.
"No." He sighed, his eyes closing. He sounded tired. Mary studued him and noticed dark smudgeds under his eyes, reinforcing Stan's description of a restless night.
"It was soda, in the can. Then she had trouble opening the pickle jar-"
"That's a little cliché don't you think?" He shrugged.
"I couldn't open it at first either, so I ran it under hot water. I guess that's when she drugged my drink." His voice became very hushed. She squeezed his knee, feeling a pang in her chest when he subconsciously pulled away. "I should have known better. I shouldn't've –"
"Hey." Mary interrupted gently. "Don't beat yourself up. That's my job." She gave him a small smile and it fell when he closed his eyes and leaned away.
"Sorry. I'm just-"She interrupted again.
"You don't need to apologize, bud. I understand." He nodded slightly.
"Thanks." He mumbled. She reached out and took his hand in hers.
"What are the nightmares about?" She asked as gently as she could. Marshall shrugged.
"I don't really know." She gnawed at her lower lip. She couldn't believe how vulnerable Marshall seemed. He hadn't looked her in the eyes since she got there. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and a hoody.
After an awkward moment of silence, something neither of usually allow, Marshall pulled a pillow to his chest, wrapping his arms around it and resting his chin on the top. Mary felt her eyes begin to tear up. She wiped her eyes but the tears continued to return, like a bad door-to-door salesman. Marshall wasn't supposed to be vulnerable. He was her protector, even if she would never admit it. Marshall glanced at her, noting the tears but then looked away before he spoke.
"I'm Ok."
"No." She shook her head and brushed away more tears. "This is not ok, Marshall." He nodded. She closed her eyes, trying to regain control of herself. When she opened her eyes she looked at her best friend, his eyes shut, a single tear halfway down his cheek. Her own tears began to fall again, creating rivers flowing down her face. She fought to hide a sob but it escaped despite her efforts. He looked up quickly.
"What's wrong?" He asked numbly. She shook her head and hugged him. His eyes widened and he held her close, discovering the feeling of safety that this close proximity brought to him. He buried his face in her shoulder, her hair clinging to tears on his cheeks. He inhaled softly, finding her scent oddly comforting.
After a few minutes Mary managed to stop her own tears, only to discover that Marshall had drifted into a fitful sleep. She smiled at him, drying his face with the sleeve of her shirt. He tried to push her hand away, causing her to smile.
Humans are amazing creatures. The things they can live with are unbelievable. But what is more amazing is that the things we have to live with are still around. If we were making any progress as a society, we should be able to stop these things. If we are such an enlightened species, shouldn't we have some sort of personal limit that prevents us from hurting each other so?
2 Weeks Later…
"Hey, hey look who's back." Mary said, smiling as Marshall walked into the WitSec office. He smiled at her slightly; his eyes brighter then they had been since that fateful day. She stood and hugged him.
"Don't scare me like that again, or I will shoot you" She muttered into his chest, only partially in jest.
"I'll try."
"You better do better than try." He smiled again and chucked softly. She pulled away from the hug, surveying him.
Stan walked out of his office.
"Marshall! Good to have you back." He walked over and shook Marshall's hand and then gave him a one armed hug. "She's been unbearable lately" Stan said quietly, so that only Marshall would hear.
"Yeah…I assumed she would be" He replied at matching volume. Stan smiled.
"I think she missed you." Marshall smiled a little, also. Mary looked up
"I will not miss covering some of your witnesses though. You need to go check on Ol' Miss Mercer" Marshall stiffened slightly and Stan gave Mary a warning glance. She felt her face flush.
"C'mon, I'll go with you." Marshall nodded.
"Thanks"
When they exited Ms. Mercer's house, Mary looked at Marshall.
"You ok?"
"What? Oh yeah" His cheeks were flushed pink slightly. She looked around and, after making sure that they were alone, she hugged Marshall protectively.
"You're amazing, Marshall." He hugged her back, feeling himself begin to relax, and smiling contentedly at what she had said. He was pretty sure he would only hear it once.
It is said that we are all angels with only one wing, and that to fly we must embrace one another. In my time with witness protection I've discovered that embracing those whom you care about is a necessity if you wish to move on. To cope.
