Hey! I have a surprise! This is the last chapter until what you have all been waiting for! I would like to thank BravoExpressions for her catch up reviews, and also apologize to her for being a less than stellar reader and reviewer as of late- I owe you a few reviews!
Thanks to everyone, you're all really great! Please enjoy this chapter!
It had been 21 weeks.
Marshall was clipped in his thigh by a stray bullet meant for their witness's heart, but other than the gauze wrapped around his leg making circulation to his toes rather difficult, all was fine. Delia had been relocating a witness, and shots were fired from a building across the street. How they had followed their issued vehicle, he was still trying to get to the bottom of, but to WITSEC's dismay, it had been all over the news. Of course both of their identities had been withheld, but still, bad press was bad press, and it was certainly causing commotion. There had been a program wide e-mail sent, and Marshall had received a phone call from the deputy director within moments of its completion. He hadn't had much to say about the business of it all at first, mostly Deputy Director McQueen needed to know the state his former Inspector and successor was in, and was pleased to find only the minor had occurred. Unfortunately, there were the technicalities to pursue as well, and Marshall was well aware Stan the Man hadn't wanted to do the scolding.
Marshall had never been one to like to be swooned over, called a hero, especially when all he really did was shove a forty year old man, and one of his already injured inspectors to the pavement, behind a car, and take a poorly aimed hunk of lead in his left leg. He just hadn't been in one of those situations in years, perhaps not since that day Norah was born, and was regrettably a little rusty with precautions regarding his own safety. Luckily, it hadn't been serious, and he would be standing on his own two feet again in a little less than two weeks. Delia would probably have to be prescribed more pain medication, and he'd lose all of her swift motor skills for a short while as well. It was looking to be really bumpy in the next few days, and Mary still hadn't recovered from Marshall's faulty judgment from last week, so not a word had been exchanged between them; even Lance Carter was quiet as of late.
When the Chief had slowly slipped on a pair of sweat pants, still sporting the hospital gown on his top half, he nearly jumped from his skin at the sound of his iPhone hollering its usual loud, "incoming call" jingle. The idea that the press somehow found him out was a thought looming in his already thoroughly preoccupied brain, and he held his breath until he had hopped close enough to his cellular device to see the caller I.D. It wasn't the press.
It was Mary- a possibly much more intimidating name to be coming to life upon his touch screen. He tried not to seem anxious, excited as he grabbed the phone with his full grasp, and shakily hit the "answer" button.
"Hello?" his voice rocked, back and forth, and she seemed to notice.
"Marshall?! Y-you okay?! You're fine?! Right? It's all over the news, I keep getting notifications!"
"Yes, Mary. It's just a flesh wound. Don't hop a plane to Albuquerque," he said lightly. "Just some nonsense. It shouldn't have happened. It probably wouldn't have if you were here."
"I probably wouldn't be out in the field anyway…." Mary said less panicked, and airily, "So you're fine?"
"Why wouldn't you be out in the field?" Marshall stopped.
"It was Delia's witness, wasn't it? I never back Delia up when she transporting a witness."
"Yes you do," he replied confused. "Always."
"Marshall, you didn't answer me! Everything is fine? I don't have to confess shit to you because you're dying?"
"No," he said flatly. "I already told you, it's just a flesh wound, four stitches."
"It still hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?"
"Yes. Very much so," he yawned, still suppressing his urge to ask her over and over. Why wouldn't she be in the field? "But, that doesn't mean this isn't a good time to make confessions."
"I have nothing to confess."
"Are you sure?"
"I didn't call for you to give me the third degree. If you're leg's still there, and you're not a soon to be amputee, then I can hang up!"
Marshall rolled his eyes. "If that's what you feel would be the correct action, you do so."
"Jeez, Marshall, you know I don't want to, but you also know I hate it when you ask a bunch of questions, so really, it's your deal. Am I hanging up?!" she asked wildly.
It felt like she was asking him so much more, it made him uncomfortable. "I want you to stay on the phone," he admitted sitting on the bed, and lying back. "I—I really want you to talk to me." It really felt pathetic, and her pause at the other end made him extremely anxious. "Please. Talk to me."
"What could we talk about?" she wondered in a whisper, "I mean, what haven't we already said?"
"I haven't said a lot of things," Marshall replied. "And, I'm sure you have plenty to say. How is your anemia?"
"It hasn't changed. Why do you have to ask me every time I call you?! I'm a big girl, Marshall. I can take care of myself. I'm not inept! Chill out!"
"I think you're the one that needs to take a step back. Don't get defensive just because I care about you," he responded calmly. And he did care. That's why he asked so many questions.
"It's just sometimes I feel like you don't trust me unless you have your eye on me twenty-four seven. Just because Detective Barbie screwed you over right in front of your face doesn't mean I will hurt you like that when I'm not there!" She breathed heavily into the phone, but even as her breath filled the ear piece steadily more and more, he still couldn't find the words to speak.
"Marshall? I-I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."
"I— but still, he couldn't form words. None.
"It's just been really difficult. Being so far away… from everything, my house, I miss my own bed. I miss my sister. Can you believe that? I miss Brandi. That's how bad off I am here. I miss my sister, and my blatting niece. Jinx has been spending so much time with Norah; she goes to her instead of me when she gets scared during one of these stupid thunderstorms they have in this God Forsaken City."
Marshall knew she wasn't just making excuses. For one, her voice was breaking, breaking in and out like when you begin to lose the local radio station when you drive out of town. He gulped, pulling his hair off of his forehead, "All is forgiven. I don't necessarily have a lengthy contact list, Mary. You're pretty much… well, you're it. If I'm mad at you, I'm mad at all of my friends."
There was a broken chuckle, "Diddo."
He could feel her eyes fall to her lap, the way they always did when conversation turned serious. Marshall was slow in his full return to the moment, "So, Brandi hasn't been keeping in close enough touch?"
"There's not much time for her to chat," Mary sighed, "That little rugrat of hers, well she's a handful. Norah stopped being that high maintenance when she learned to walk. But, Brandi's kid… really, that's all I have to say. She's Brandi's kid."
"Every kid is different. Norah and Beth they're made from different stuff. You each have your own spunk, and you passed it on to your babies. You were very independent, still are, so Norah picked it up. Brandi is… dependent, and therefore, so is Beth," he supplemented.
"So, you're saying we both screwed them up in different ways?"
"I would say 'screw up' is a very strong summation on your part. Norah is perfect. We've been over this. Beth is too, in her own light." He hoped if this back and forth trailed on to be any more personal, he could blame it on the pain medications- even though he hadn't been given any.
"I know. She is. I make good people," she joked.
"You most definitely did a superb job cooking that little miss."
"Don't call her 'little miss,' and absolutely don't make me out to be a human easy bake oven," Mary scolded. "When you grow a uterus, and you get yourself knocked up, then we can talk."
He laughed, "Yeah? Is that a promise?"
"It's a threat. Forget everything you've seen. It's not rainbows and unicorns for nine months. It's some serious change…. horrible, and sweaty change," she added.
"I was there, remember?" Marshall mused with a growing smirk, feeling mischievous, and as if he was doing some serious blackmailing.
"All too well, Marshall. All too well."
Marshall lay back a little more comfortably, getting enjoyment out of the memories rolling through his mind- Mary lounging in her office chair, belly up, complaints coming in mounds from her mouth, Mary scarfing down cholesterol packed foods, not a single vegetable for thirty-two weeks, unless it was fried, Mary waddling off, from the car to every gas station restroom they passed. Mary's personality didn't mesh well with pregnancy. Marshall knew this all too well, but still very much found that tickle from those few years ago.
He sat up. "I have to get home, Mare. Can I call you when I get there?"
"Oh- y-yeah," she tried to reply without disappointment riddling her tone. "I might have to go back to the training area in a few. If I don't answer, it's not that I'm ignoring you, I just may be back at my shitty job," she mused.
"Oh? Where are you now?"
"On my off-time I just hang out in the middle stall in the bathroom, saves them desk space—I'm in their guest office, douche! Go on Hop-Along, get yourself home, and call me when you can," she ordered.
"Aye-Aye Inspector!" he played in a faux underling inflection.
When he heard the line fall silent, he tossed his phone into his bag, slipped on a shirt, and slung his duffle over his shoulder. With a pair of crutches they had given him for only the next few days, in order not to pop his few stitches, he made his way out of the room at a snail's pace, nodding to the nurses, and debating as to whether or not he should head to the office instead. He shook his head, realizing he was just a tad exhausted, and set his sights on being in his own abode.
The Albuquerque sun hit him at the top of his head; his leg throbbed at the swaying motion that occurred whilst he hobbled toward his vehicle, which Delia -even though he had dismissed her for the day to get her bearings- had dropped off. The witness had been transported during a messy debacle with D.C. and he was being sent, even further from his home, to New York City. He hoped Mary didn't get a hold of him, but she wouldn't even know who he was, unless she was clever enough to put the shreds together. Marshall had sent him off at the train station a few hours ago, before his visit to the E.R. hopeful that the bleeding would cease, and he would just need to throw away this particular suit. The jacket had been utilized as a tourniquet so Marshall wouldn't be gushing blood on the platform, and scaring the other potential passengers wanting to climb aboard.
What a day this had been. He just wanted it to be done, he wanted to go home, have a little chat with Mary, miss her some more, and fall asleep. He would wake up the next day, content, and unfazed by a single sketchy detail as he always did the day after a sticky situation.
It was only once that his demeanor hadn't shifted to this, post-WITSEC Disaster, and that had been when Mary had been shot. There was no coming back from that, no not remembering, no taking a few minutes to compose himself. It was all very real, every time he remembered it, and that, he couldn't help.
It felt like a long way home, even though it wasn't. His leg cramped every now and then, and getting out of the car had been a hassle. His crutches were flung to the ground, his bottom planted itself in the chair, and he groped for his phone in the bag on his lap. When he had it in his fingers, he clicked rocket redial, because, as always, she had been the last one he had called.
"Hey doofus," she answered, chewing noisily into the phone.
"Hello there, Mare. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he wondered nonchalantly.
"I wouldn't have answered the phone if you were. You know me better than that," she laughed. "I have no problem ignoring you."
"That's a comforting thought," he smiled. "I-I never liked missing your phone calls."
He heard something crinkle, and a sniff.
"I bet Abigail jumped for joy every time you did, though," Mary said sadly.
"I will admit, I made mistakes, Mary. But, I- love… our friendship. And you didn't stop being my best friend, even if you wanted to be," Marshall replied instantly.
"We don't… need to talk about this…" she responded with a sharp exhale. "Not right now …Jesus…" she groaned.
Marshall furrowed his brow, "Are you alright?"
"Y-yeah. I'm fine," she said uncertainly. "Just a cramp, or something… You know, Marshall- I have to go."
He held the phone. "Mary, tell me you're okay first!"
The line was dead; he was left hanging, disturbed, and a little confused. Marshall grabbed his crutches, and took his keys. He was going to the WITSEC Office. He had more pull there, if something was happening with Mary, Lance Carter would know in a few seconds flat, especially if she had been in the training office when it happened. He held his breath. What could be going on with his Mary?
His mind was in a panic, and he felt every emotion all at once. There may be more to this whole thing than he thought, but he couldn't afford to lose another day in the office, so he was fighting off the urge to hop a plane to New York City. He didn't want to lose this mental war with himself, but he just felt all of this getting heavier and heavier on his shoulders.
This was killing him. Marshall wanted her back in Albuquerque, where he could keep an eye on her, and whatever she had hiding up her sleeve.
It had happened 21 weeks ago with Mary, as fulfilling as it was it was long gone, but the space that was between them from New Mexico to New York was growing rapidly, eating away at him. Thoughts of Abigail were becoming few and far between, and only avid reminders had him falling back to their divorce. Time was passing, faster and faster, and he found that only Mary was the reason it was going by so quickly. He needed her, nothing mattered anymore, their fling had happened a week after his divorce from Abigail anyway, and it was time to face the facts.
Uh-oh. What happened with Mary? Review and tell me what you think!
