Mary woke to the feel Marshall trying to pull her closer to him. His nightmare was just getting started. It was his first reaction to whatever haunted him. She would have to snoop around and find out what case he chose to take. While a part of her desperately wanted to help these families with their missing children, her heart couldn't take it. The only thing she ever did was take a look at the child her husband focused on. The more they reminded him of Norah the worse the nightmares.

They were so extreme opposite in some sense of how they dealt with Norah's death. Marshall with his determination to find every missing child he could in honor of Norah. She on the other hand would watch the videos they had of Norah, go through pictures, talk to Ryan and Lily about their angle and wait for Marshall to come home before they went to visit Norah. When Marshall had forced her to see Shelly both before and after they found her little girl, she'd resented him. In the end, she had to be grateful to him. Talking to Shelley helped her out more than she cared to admit. She wished Marshall had done the same. There were times when the thought of calling Stan to have him talk to Marshall about what happened had often popped into her mind.

Gently running her finger through his hair, Mary whispered soothing words until Marshall finally calmed down some. It wouldn't last, she knew that, but for now it was enough. As she continued to reassure Marshall her mind drifted to the day she visited Shelley after not hearing from her partner for two days.

Shelly placed the box of Kleenex in front of her as she had poured her heart out about Norah. The pain never seemed to subside and it seemed like all she ever did anymore was cry. When she looked into a mirror she didn't recognize the person staring back at her.

"Why do you blame yourself, Mary?" Shelley asked.

"I was her mother and am a marshal for Pete's sake. It was my job to protect her."

"Norah was with her father. You trusted him to watch her."

The anger flared through Mary's body. "That turned out to be a huge mistake. I should've never let her go with him to the amusement park. Norah didn't have to go there. We had another offer."

"Why didn't you take the offer up?"

"Mark called before Marshall did. We would've been at the ball game and she wouldn't be dead. He was her father, when she was born we were the only two people I trusted. When my father came back and Mark had let him near my daughter, I should've known better. I can't believe that I didn't trust Norah in Marshall's care at first."

"You didn't trust your partner?" Shelley asked surprised.

"I always trust Marshall. It's just he and Abigail were the perfect couple image and I didn't want Norah to be around what she'd never have with her parents. Mark was always a mistake from the time I married him to the time I slept with him"

"Did you regret Norah?"

"What the hell kind of stupid question is that? I loved my daughter. She made me feel things that I never thought I could. Norah was the best thing to happen to me."

Shelley had wisely moved away from that question.

"Why do you blame yourself?" she asked again.

"I was at home when I could've gone with Mark or taken her with Marshall. He watched her like a hawk. No one was allowed near my bug when she was with her Uncle Marshall. He was so cautious with her."

"Why didn't you go with Mark?"

"I hate amusement parks, Mark wanted some Daddy and me time and I rather had been at the ballpark with Marshall. I decided to stay home and clean the house up. A three-year old can make such a mess. I decided to have a little me time. That's why she was alone with Mark, it's the reason she never came hone and why I had to bury my baby girl," Mary sobbed out.

"Mary, you said that you trusted Mark. You wouldn't have done that without him proving himself to you. The fact that you weren't there doesn't make it your fault. Wanting a little me time isn't a crime or the reason that Norah died. The person that took her is the reason she's dead."

Mary shook her head no.

"You've build a career on protecting people and it's hard to accept, but you can't always protect everyone. What about Marshall? Is it his fault he couldn't find her? Do you blame him for not insisting you go to the baseball game?"

"Marshall did everything he possibly could to find her. You didn't see him. He wasn't sleeping unless I made him. Marshall was the reason I keep going. If it weren't for him I would've…"

Shelly picked up on the way Mary stopped.

"You would've what?"

"I would've joined Norah," Mary fiercely swiped the endless tears. "Marshall made Stan take my gun away and switched the code so I couldn't get to his. I'm not sure what worried him more, me killing the bastard who murdered my daughter or taking my life."

"Did you try to find the man who killed Norah?"

"Yes, but Marshall kept Delia with me when he couldn't be. I couldn't go out to hunt him down and make him pay for what he'd done. That monster deserved to die a slow agonizing death."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Angry. I was livid at Marshall. The things I said to him after all he'd done were unfair and cruel. It hurt him to hear me say them. His eyes showed the pain."

"What happened next?" Shelley asked knowing Mary had to deal with all of her fears.

Mary had been broken when she'd first started coming. For the first few sessions Mary barely uttered a word. The third session the shell cracked and she'd wept, screamed and yelled until Shelley had made Marshall come in to prevent Mary from hurting herself.

The session after that something had changed. Mary knew fear had brought her here. She had once again taken her pain out on Marshall. He stayed until she cried herself to sleep, but it had been three days and still no Marshall. Her heart couldn't take it if he left her. It's how she ended up in this office.

"Marshall's been gone for three days and hasn't called or stopped by."

"Have you tried calling him?"

"It goes to voicemail. Marshall hasn't answered any of the messages. I can't do this if he's not here. I can barely do this with him."

Mary left the appointment and drove home. The silence in the house was eerie. She called Marshall again, but he never picked up. She grabbed the shirt Marshall had left when he changed in the guest room and put in on before picking up Norah's blanket and stuffed horse.

Placing her cell phone on the table she curled up in a fetal position before once again breaking down in tears. The pain was overwhelming and she didn't know if she could continue to deal with it on her own.

Five long days passed of sleepless nights and nightmares for Mary and still no Marshall. Her heart froze in fear as all the reasons for him not to come back played through her mind. What if something happened to Marshall while looking for Norah's killer? How could she live with the fact that she caused them both to die.

"Mare?"

"Marshall," whispered not loud enough for him to hear, but it was enough to get her moving towards the living room.

As long as she lives, she'd never forget the haunted look in his eyes or the pain he couldn't hide. It was like someone had sucked the life right out of him.

"Mare, I'm sorry it's been so long," Marshall said, stepping closer to Mary as she entered the room.

Mary threw her arms around Marshall and clung onto him.

"I thought something happened to you. Where the hell have you been Marshall?"

Marshall's arms wrapped around her tightly and he closed his eyes before whispering.

"I found the bastard who hurt Norah. He won't hurt anyone ever again. Mare, I don't feel bad at all about taking his life. Is Norah going to be ashamed of me for that?"

"No, Marshall. He hurt her and you stopped him from hurting any other children. Norah would never be ashamed of you. Are you in trouble?"

"Clean shoot. He tried to shoot us and I shot him before he could fire."

"You've chased him for the last five days?" Mary asked, finally pulling back from Marshall.

"I chased him," Marshall replied without elaborating.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I'm just tired, Mare. It's been a long year."

Mary nodded and led Marshall into her room.

Mary looked down at Marshall and planted a kiss to his forehead. It was Marshall's constant support that had helped her to continue living. She had called him when the grief was too much to bear. He held her night after night comforting her and eventually loving her. He showed her they could endure the pain and continue to move forward while never forgetting Norah. Shelley had helped her in some aspects, but Marshall had by far done the most. She would be eternally grateful to him for not giving up on her.

The only thing that still concerned her was sometimes it felt like she had healed more after Norah's death than Marshall. She had tried to get him to talk to someone about what he went through, but Marshall continued to refuse. It was as if they did a role reversal on that aspect. Marshall was different since he found Norah. It was the one thing she couldn't deny. Mary felt the two of them changed the most since Norah's death or maybe it was just because they were together that it stood out more to her, she wasn't really sure.

Mary linked her hand with Marshall's over her stomach and finally fell asleep.

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Marshall's nightmares had brought him back to the evidence that led them to Randall Brandt, Norah's murderer.

The forensics team had discovered a dark hair on Sleepy bear along with a fingerprint to go with it. Luckily for them, the security company which he worked at required them to be fingerprinted for the job.

Marshall and Delia called Abigail before heading to Randall's house after running him through the system and calling the security firm that he worked for. He had been assigned to the amusement part the day of Norah's disappearance and had requested to leave early. While he didn't own a silver van, apparently someone he knew did and had lent it to him because his car had broken down that day.

Marshall and Delia approached the house and knocked on the door.

"U.S. Marshal's open up," Marshall called out before kicking the door in.

Marshall and Delia swept the kitchen and living room and came up empty. Marshall signaled to Delia to follow him as they headed down the hallway. Part way to the last bedroom on the right, they could hear the sirens coming.

"Get out of my house," Randall screamed from the back room.

Marshall heard the sound of what sounded like a gun being loaded. He signaled to Delia to let her know. He also heard footsteps coming towards the front door and Abigail identifying herself. It was the second voice that surprised him. Marshall didn't know Stan was in town.

It was the slight distraction that had Delia tackling Marshall to the floor as a bullet whizzed by them. Marshall rolled onto his back as Randall came out and aimed at Delia.

"Randall, put the gun down," Marshall ordered.

"I'm not going to jail," Randall said and moved his finger to squeeze the trigger

Marshall aimed and fired before Randall could.

"Marshall! Delia!" Stan shouted out.

"We're fine, Stan," Marshall replied, getting up and moving towards Randall. "We need a bus."

Randall wouldn't make it. Marshall was sure of that. The bullet he shot must have hit something major. Marshall wanted answers.

"Why? Why did you take Norah? Why did you kill her? She was just a little girl."

Randall looked at him and smiled.

"You'll spend the rest of your life trying to figure that out, won't you?" Randall managed to say.

Stan heard the comment and grabbed Marshall before he could attack the dying man.

"Marshall, he's not worth it. Go check the rest of the house for anything."

"Stan…"

"That's an order Chief."

Marshall stormed past Stan and headed towards the kitchen. He leaned against the counter trying to get his anger under control. It was as he was leaning against the sink his eyes caught something outside that didn't fit it. The backyard was flat except one area. So caught up in the sight that was bothering him, he jumped when Stan rested a hand on his back.

"He's dead."

"Good," Marshall replied, knowing it sounded bad. "I can't care that he is. He deserved what he got for killing Norah."

"Marshall, I'm not judging you. Killing him was self-defense in this case. You didn't break the law. What are you looking at?" Stan asked, realizing Marshall's attention kept straying to a place outside.

"It's not right?"

"What isn't?"

"That area is different then the others," Marshall replied, pointing the spot out to Stan.

Stan looked to the area as Marshall headed out the back door. Marshall was right. The one section was out-of-place. He followed Marshall into the backyard.

On the outside, other than sticking up a little more from the rest of the yard, nothing seemed wrong. Marshall knelt and ran his hands over the area looking for something that would explain the anomaly in Randall's backyard. As he swept his hand through the sand he hit what felt like a handle and a deadbolt.

The second Marshall's hand hit the deadbolt he began to move the sand off the area until a door with a deadbolt on it was discovered. He quickly undid the deadbolt and opened the door.

"We're going to need a flashlight," Stan said, before seeing Delia and sending her for one.

Marshall pulled out his key chain and used the LED light on it to start down the stairs. His hand accidentally bumped a switch on the wall and he flicked it up making the room light up.

"Stan, we don't need the flashlight."

Marshall could hear Stan coming down the stairs. The room was made up of solid cement. In the corner of the room was an old handkerchief that was wound tight. It would effectively prevent a child from screaming.

Marshall walked over towards a table that was in the room and noticed an old tape recorder with a tape in it. Putting a glove on he hit the play button and would forever be haunted by what he heard.

"Daddy, Mommy, where are you. I'm scared Mommy. Mommy I want you. Mommy please. Uncle Marshall I need you. You promised. I need you, you come. Uncle Marshall I's scared," Norah's tear filled please ripped through Marshall's heart, but the tape continued.

"Quiet little one. You'll disturb the neighbors."

"Said Mommy was hurt. Want Mommy and Daddy."

"Mommy and Daddy are gone. I'm going to take care of you now."

"No! Uncle Marshall love me. He take care of me. You go away," Norah said. "Uncle Marshall please need you."

A scream pierced the air and then silence.

Stan moved over to the tape recorder and shut it off. His concern immediately went to Marshall whose face lost all its color and tears poured down her face. He felt the bile rise in his throat and hurried outside and threw up.

Stan, Delia and Abigail moved over to Marshall.

"Mary can't ever hear that Stan. It would kill her. She can't know about that tape."

"Marshall, we can't get rid of the evidence."

"I'm not asking you to do that. Just make sure when she comes to look and you know she will, that the tape isn't in the same box."

"I'll talk to my boss and see what we can do," Abigail said, not knowing what was on the tape, but knowing by Marshall's reaction it wasn't something Mary should hear.

They all agreed to not mention the tape to Mary and to see what they could do to prevent her from ever getting her hands on it.

"Marshall, take the rest of the day off," Stan ordered.

"Can I have the rest of the week? I need to go somewhere to get myself together before seeing Mary. I won't tell you where I'm going. She'll find out and I'm not ready to face her."

"Marshall, look at me. You didn't do anything wrong. Mary won't blame you. I realize you need time in order for her not to realize you're holding out on her, but don't you dare take the blame for this. I'll let Mary know we found Norah's killer."

"Don't tell her that I went away. Just tell her you don't know where I am. It won't be a lie."

Marshall shot straight up in bed. His breathing completely erratic and a scream caught in his throat. He went to raise his hand to wipe the tears from his eye when he realized that it was in Mary's grasp. Leaning over he made sure that he didn't wake her up before easing his hand out of hers and heading into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face he stared in the mirror.

His nightmares were getting worse and he knew Mary was concerned. She had often asked him to talk to Shelley, but he didn't want to. He never wanted to talk about what happened at Randall's home. It wasn't something he wanted to remember much less talk about. Deep down he knew that he probably should and at some point Mary would insist.

Mary had come so far in the last five years and he was so proud of her. He felt he'd made progress, but not as much as Mary. He was fine most of the year, but certain dates haunted him. He hoped that he could find Rose. While he knew she wasn't Norah, he needed to find this little girl. There had to be hope for her. If this ended in tragedy, Marshall wasn't sure that his heart could take it.

Stan, Mary and his parents had all told him he needed to stop. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. It felt like this was the only way to make things up to Norah.

Marshall turned to head back to bed when he saw Mary leaning against the door.

"Are you okay?" Mary asked closing the gap.

Marshall nodded. "Sorry if I woke you."

Mary cupped Marshall's cheek. "What do you need?"

Marshall pulled her into his arms and buried his head into the crook of her neck before whispering.

"You, I need you."

"Marshall, you already have me."

Marshall kissed her as he steered her back to the bed.

"Love me tonight," Marshall's whispered plea reached her ears.

"I'll love you every night for the rest of our lives."

"Show me," Marshall pleaded.

Mary nodded, knowing full well Marshall needed to find comfort in her arms.

/\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Mary traced her fingertips across Marshall's bare back. He fell into a deep sleep finally and she couldn't. When she woke alone in the bed and heard the water running in the bathroom Mary knew that Marshall had a really bad nightmare.

She remembered what those were like. The five days she waited for him to come back after Stan told her they found Norah's murdered, had been filled with nightmares and fears. Stan had reassured her that nothing happened to Marshall. Her mind took her back to those days waiting for Marshall.

Mary found herself wandering through the house and ending up in Norah's room. Sitting in the rocking chair she slowly rocked letting tears of pain slide down her face as she hummed Norah's favorite song. Eventually she ended up falling asleep in the chair.

In her dreams, she found herself back at the amusement park. She was running around looking frantically in every ride, game, restroom and anywhere else a little girl could hide. Marshall suddenly appeared next to her and then he was gone.

She heard Norah and Marshall both calling for her and no matter how hard she tried to get to them she couldn't find them.

"Marshall! Norah!" Mary woke up screaming and trembling.

Getting out of the rocking chair she headed her room and grabbed her cell phone. She hit speed dial one and it went into voice mail.

"Marshall, I know something is wrong. I need you to talk to me. Nothing is bearable unless you're here. Please, please don't leave me to. I need you. Marshall, come home. We'll get through this together. I need you to get through this. Call me or just show up. It doesn't matter what time of day or night. Just show up."

Mary remembered the desperation in her voice. She had been so scared of losing Marshall too. At the time, it was still hard to force herself up every morning to face the day. Marshall got up early in the mornings to make sure she had breakfast and cooked supper for her also. He was her only source of comfort and the only person she wanted around. Marshall had never run before. Stan didn't know where and she knew he wasn't lying.

Mary once again ran her hand over Marshall's back. The day he showed up on her door she'd never been so relieved. The nights after were hard as he woke up with severe nightmares. When they were married and the nightmares seemed more frequent he still refused to talk about them. His refusal to talk infuriated her and led to many arguments between the two. She'd spent the better part of two years arguing on and off with him about it. Marshall refused to relent and she hated the toll it was taking on him and them.

She really needed to get him to talk to someone. He couldn't continue this way. She needed him and so did their kids.