A/N: Thanks a ton to my buddy Jayne Leigh for getting caught up on reviews! I just love reading them!

XXX

If Mary despised hospitals, she certainly had a repugnance for the doctor's office. In some ways, the physician's complex was almost worse; she'd been there far more times, after all, and most of her appointments had been unpleasant. She'd visited countless times while pregnant with the twins, and she'd been jittery and jumpy each and every occasion.

Nonetheless, it was imperative she keep her misgivings to herself, because any nerves she allowed to surface would spill over onto Ben and Lizzie. She wasn't sure, exactly, why she felt so restless. Maybe because it was Monday and she knew she was supposed to be at work, or because the kids would typically be at school. Perhaps because her mind was spinning with everything Marshall had told her about Brandi's financial woes at Alpert's Autoplex, or because she was burning for an update on Holly.

But, the actual culprit was probably the real reason they were visiting the doctor anyway. She hated seeing the twins in pain, whether large or miniscule, elongated or brief. She remembered all too well about a week after they'd been born and her initial ecstasy had abated slightly, she'd completely broke down in tears seeing a nurse take three tries at securing an IV for Lizzie. Her brand new daughter had shrieked like a siren and hadn't let up for several minutes, causing the fresh mother to start sobbing when the professionals wouldn't let her pick her up. Marshall had explained it all away as overactive hormones, but deep down Mary distrusted that theory. It was physically aching to see her children suffering and it was hard to imagine that now, five years down the road, it would be any different.

So, she fidgeted rather agitatedly in her chair in the pediatric waiting room, Marshall flipping idly through a magazine while Ben and Lizzie shared the table of giant Lego blocks. Ben seemed to be building a skyscraper, Lizzie working on a house.

"You okay over there?" Marshall wanted to know, watching his wife unable to keep her seat.

"Fine," she said absently. "Ready for this to be over so I can get to work."

"Don't forget to tell Stan I'll be in around two, and then you can take my place at the hospital."

"Whatever…" Mary grumbled. "I mean, I'll tell him."

Marshall remained incredulous of her nonchalance and discarded his magazine, scooting over in his chair to be closer to her. Dropping his voice so the kids couldn't listen in, he made the recommendation Mary absolutely should've forecasted.

"You know…" whispering stealthily. "If this is uncomfortable for you, I can always take the kids back by myself and you can wait out here."

"Forget it," Mary cut him off almost at once, shoving him back so as not to look prominent. "I'm not gonna be like Brandi, putting my own selfish needs over my children. What world are you living in, doofus?"

"Just a suggestion," he restated for good measure.

"Lizzie would never stand for it," Mary rationalized for her own peace of mind. "I'm going."

And Marshall knew when it was imprudent to argue, "All right then."

Settling himself more naturally in his chair yet again, he busied himself gazing around the room at the other patrons waiting to see the doctor. Smaller than the children's waiting room at the hospital, this space was carpeted and boasted the small play center Ben and Lizzie were locked in at the moment. Besides the building table, there was a book rack, a bin full of balls and stuffed animals, and a springy looking backdrop on the wall depicting a field of green trees. In some ways, it was actually nicer than the pediatric ward at Mesa Regional, mostly because the people who worked here obviously expected kids to be playing – not so at the hospital.

So engrossed in everything there was to offer, Marshall neglected to notice that a woman on the far side of the room was eying him – or perhaps he'd been eying her accidentally. To make up for his possible slip-up in rudeness, he smiled politely to show he hadn't intended to stare.

She took it at face value, pausing in helping her daughter pick a book.

"Are these two yours?" she asked nicely, signifying Ben and Lizzie nearby.

"Yes," Marshall nodded, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Mary had tuned in now that he was talking to a pretty girl.

"Are they twins?"

"Yeah…" he confirmed, smile growing wider as his pride leaked out. "Fraternal, clearly."

He was used to this assumption from strangers, but it still baffled him on occasion. Being male and female, Ben and Lizzie didn't entirely fit the 'twin' bill because they didn't look exactly alike. Yet, people always seemed to guess anyway. He saw them every day, and so their similarities weren't as striking to him, but apparently to others it could not be denied. They were as identical as it was possible to be when one was a girl and one was a boy.

"They're adorable," the woman told him. "And they play so well together. My kids can't get along for two seconds," a chuckle.

Marshall took the compliment for what it was, "Thank-you. We're very lucky."

He was positive Mary had heard him say as such, which was her favorite response when people gushed over the twins. Not a superstitious individual, she still attributed Ben's and Lizzie's wellness to luck and good fortune. Yes, much of it had to do with the skilled practitioners who had nurtured them in their first fragile weeks of life, but a part of her called upon a higher power to ensure that they turned out okay.

And over energetic, meek, greedy, sensitive, shy, or brazen, that was exactly what they were, especially when you considered Holly's plight – they were okay.

"Sorry to intrude," the stranger laughed when Marshall went slightly blank. "I hope I wasn't bothering you."

"Of course not," Marshall commented respectfully. "I appreciate the compliment."

"Go out with her, why don't you?" Mary added as an aside in his ear, her breath warm. "Sitting right here, Poindexter."

It was his turn to smirk; knowing Mary was only fooling around and didn't feel threatened in the least, but he liked to see that lion rear it's had now and again. Seeing her jealous, even marginally, was a hoot.

"Like you don't flirt when the men come calling," he accused, leaving the random woman in the rearview.

"At least I'm not so obvious about it," Mary invented. "Shameless, that's what you are."

"Ah…" Marshall leaned over; slipping a quick kiss onto her cheek as proof he only had eyes for one. "You know the rest of feminine civilization pales in comparison to my girl."

"That only earns you a few points back."

Whatever additional marks he could salvage were going to have to be addressed at a later date. A nurse emerged from the staircase off to the left, pulling forth a file from inside a plastic slot in the wall. After flipping through the papers indolently, she called to the room at large, as the nurses had been doing all morning.

"Benjamin and Elizabeth Mann!"

Both kids looked up upon hearing their full, given names – Ben somewhat benign, Lizzie instantly apprehensive.

"You can come on back!"

Lizzie dispiritedly dropped her blocks, knowing the time was now. Marshall stood first, hoisting Ben to his feet, because he was likely to stay and play with the Legos all day if they let him. Mary did a quick scan of the area around her before locating Pretzel the bear underneath her chair. Marshall was already halfway across the room, dragging Ben by his fingers as he complained about not getting to finish his tower before Mary coaxed Lizzie to get up and get moving.

"Come on, baby…" she urged tenderly. "Time to go."

Precariously, Lizzie did manage to stand up, gripping Mary's hand with what were extremely sweaty palms. This disheartened the mother, learning that she was quite literally shaking in her boots, so much so it was making her perspire, which for a five-year-old was no easy feat.

To avoid fixating on this, Mary made a split-second decision and lugged Lizzie up and into her arms. She didn't usually carry her; for despite her daughter's distaste for all things spooky, she did claim fairly often that she was 'not a baby.' Today, however, it was plain that she didn't mind in the least, looping her arms around Mary's neck as she jogged to catch up with her husband and son.

It was something of a frenzy once they finally made it into an exam room with too-high cots and no kid's books to entertain. The nurse made a fuss over Ben and Lizzie, delighted to learn they were twins just like the woman in the waiting room. Ben was gleeful at all the attention and started showing off, while Lizzie turned withdrawn and huddled on Mary's lap in the only chair there was available.

"So…" the nurse finally got down to business, however, and faced the group before diving right in. "Meningitis vaccines today, huh?"

"That's right," Marshall established swimmingly from where he was standing by the door, hands on Ben's shoulders so he wouldn't knock anything over in his liveliness. "Any chance we could get a two-for-one deal?" a joke.

"If only," the nurse played along. "I should tell you guys that you're probably going to have sore arms for the rest of the day, okay? But, it's nothing to worry about."

She spoke in a sunny, sing-song type voice to lure the kids into a false sense of security. Lizzie was far from reassured and grappled tighter to Mary's neck; it seemed Ben hadn't even heard. This nurse they were dealing with – her tag read 'Heather' – was much younger than Shannon from the Holly escapades. Her hair was styled in a blonde up-do, her blue scrubs printed with giant pink hair bows. Mary had to stop herself from gagging at that design.

"We can handle a little ache and pain, right soldiers?" Marshall tried to sound breezy and unconcerned, so as to put Lizzie at ease.

It worked on Ben, "Right!" flexing his arm menacingly, as he often did when he wanted to show strangers his 'muscles.'

"Okay then…" Heather giggled at his display, the way most adults did because he was so outgoing. "Let's get moving so you all can be on your way. Who wants to go first?"

'Wants' was an interesting term to use, Mary thought. Regardless of Ben's fervor, she couldn't imagine he really wanted to do what was being asked of him. But, like a champ, he volunteered at once, almost like he was forgetting what lay ahead.

"I'll do it!" he declared, and without further ado he climbed ungracefully onto the bed, crackling and wrinkling the thin sheet of paper that resided over the cushion.

"Good man," Marshall tousled his hair, beaming because he'd stepped up so Lizzie wouldn't have to.

Watching her son from her post, Mary couldn't help but be slightly awed. Ben really was unflappable, cool as a cucumber and swaying his dangling feet above the floor. You'd think this was all a semi-interesting trip to the zoo to him. Mary thought back to all the times she'd had IV's placed in her arm when she'd been pregnant, and thought he even rivaled her bravery when it came to sharp objects.

But, he was still her baby, and the thought of his flesh being pieced was enough to make her stand up, swinging Lizzie onto her hip and joining Marshall by the door. Knowing his wife's motivations, he held out his arms so she could pass Lizzie to him.

"You got her?" she wanted to make sure before letting go, glad her daughter had not begged to be returned to her mother.

"Yep. She's good. Do your thing, mom."

The admiration in his voice was enough to make Mary blush, but she was able to cover by sliding onto the edge of the cot next to Ben. Careful not to go too close and foil his tough guy nature, she simply sat in order to be a presence, should he decide he needed it.

Heather fumbled in the cabinets for several minutes, the air growing heavy with uneasiness, even if it wasn't Ben's. Never a fan of too much quiet, Mary broke the silence, never mind how awkward.

"You know you two get out of school for the holidays on Thursday," she reminded them, just as another thought sprung to mind. "And Nana and Papa Seth are coming on Friday."

"I'll be," Marshall remarked in surprise. "That had completely slipped my mind," Mary was glad not to be alone on this front.

"Nana's coming?" Lizzie questioned timidly.

"And Papa Seth," Marshall segued. "Don't leave him out. That'll be fun, huh Ben?"

Crickets.

"Ben?"

It took Mary a moment to realize what had happened. Her son's lack-of-reaction to the news of his grandparents visiting was conspicuous. But, when his mother looked into his round-cheeked, cherub face, she saw that he'd gone slack. His lighthearted attitude had vanished, and there was only one guess as to why.

Nurse Heather was finally ready, Ben's eyes round as saucers as he got a good look at the syringe. Evidently, his expectations for the size of the shot were a little out of proportion. Mary distinctly saw him recoil, but he caught himself once everyone started looking at him.

"Is he left or right handed?" Heather inquired as she pulled back Ben's shirtsleeve and began swabbing him with the strong-smelling alcohol.

"Left," Marshall reported, glad she'd thought to ask since Ben was indeed a lefty.

"Then we'll go for the right."

Ben was biting his lip now, like the words he wanted to say were just dying to escape but he was keeping them locked within as long as possible. Mary knew he was trying to be strong, that he didn't want anyone to see that he was frightened. Struck with sudden inspiration, she nudged herself closer to him, whispering in his ear so that he and he alone could hear her.

"Geez Ben…that thing is bigger than I thought," Mary worked to make her voice sound trembling. "I really hate looking at it. Come sit on my lap and protect me."

Not needing to be told twice, Ben scrambled onto Mary's knees and immediately snuggled into her chest. Unable to totally remove his eyes from the spectacle, he gazed dreadfully, winding himself nearer and nearer to his mother while Marshall occupied Lizzie.

In the split second they had before Heather came in for the kill, Mary took her chance.

"Hold my hand…" she encouraged, straight into his lobe, and he reluctantly slipped one out of his iron hold to allow it to rest inside Mary's fingers. And she abandoned all pretense, "If it hurts, you squeeze real hard, okay?"

No one picked up on this direction except for Ben, and his final phrase was quick, "I…I'm not scared…"

"Of course not," Mary scoffed believably. "It's me who needs you."

"Mmm hmm…" a high pitched hum.

She saw the bullet aiming for its target and accidentally raised her voice to normal speaking level, "Ben, close your eyes."

It was the first instruction she'd given that came out sounding harsh, but it made him listen, at the very least. She simply abhorred the idea of him watching the needle penetrate his skin, which was what he'd been about to see had he continued watching. As it was, his lids snapped closed and Mary got a full view, but distracted herself by burrowing him tighter against her ribcage.

He did cringe fairly noticeably, and the yank on her hand wasn't light either, but it was the fact that he was so clearly battling the urge to burst into tears that did her in. His eyes were squeezed together so stiffly Mary could see the wetness brimming on his lashes. She wanted to tell him it was all right, that he didn't have to put up the front, but saying this during the injection probably wasn't the best idea.

It was only when he was seconds away from victory that he surrendered to impulse, "Mama…" a quavering whimper snuck out and he squirmed. "It hurts…"

"I know, bud…"

But then it was over, and Mary could tell the second the pressure was lifted, because Ben went limp all over and the nurse turned upbeat once more.

"All done! What a great job! You were so brave!"

Despite how canned this line was, Mary appreciated her saying it all the same because Ben came out of his fog and smiled, blinking back moisture from his beautiful blue eyes. Mary wiped his unshed tears out of habit, pleased to see him grinning, and kissed his temple in praise of his powering through.

"Nice work, spark…" Marshall held out a free hand for a low five, which Ben smacked with vigor. "You didn't even make a peep!" though Mary knew Marshall had heard him sniveling.

"Let's see if we can find you a cool band aid…" Heather began digging in a clear cylindrical contraption on the counter. "Cover up that wound…"

While Ben was busy with the nurse, already chattering away about needing something with superheroes, Marshall used the opportunity shift Lizzie onto the table. Mary was not all together astonished to see him sit down next to her. Lizzie would never purposely try to bolt from the room or wiggle out of the way, like a bratty, defiant little girl, but she did tend to whip around rather erratically if she got upset enough. It made Mary feel better to have Marshall right there in case she started flailing, however unintentionally.

Unfortunately, things didn't start out very well. Mary could tell the minute Lizzie landed in her lap that she was shaking. Sometimes, it was easy to pretend her daughter's fearful side was just part of who she was, but there was no denying on occasion that it got out of control. The night terrors proved that.

"Come on Lizzie Lou…" Marshall stroked her hair soothingly. "It won't take long at all; you just saw Ben and it was no big deal."

Ben himself interrupted this exchange, returned from his scavenger hunt, "Look mom! Superman!" he lifted his shirt up to show the red and blue band aid on his bicep. "Man of Steel!" a growling noise sounded from deep in his throat, feeling courageous all over again.

"Awesome…" Marshall was the one to appear interested because Mary was trying to arrange Lizzie so that she didn't tumble off the table. "Sit in that chair for just a second," he gestured where Mary had been stationed when they'd first arrived. "We're gonna get Lizzie squared away and then you guys are off to school."

"Man…" Ben groaned. "Not school!"

"Yes, school," Marshall was still pointing, and kept his finger aloft until Ben parked himself. "Strengthens the mind."

Heather chuckled after hearing Marshall describe education as such, and she was much faster on the second go around in preparing the syringe than she'd been on the first. Mary guessed she'd arranged both shots at the same time, because she was already headed toward Lizzie, who was about to have a stroke.

"Mama, I don't want to…" she cried pitifully, sounding sadder and more afraid than Mary had heard her in sometime. "I don't want to!" she was clawing at her back she was so desperate to get away.

"Liz, it will be really short…" Mary insisted, struggling to keep her still. "Marshall, hold her back…"

They were not going to resort to 'holding her down.' Mary had made that decision a long time ago, but with the child pressed against her chest and Marshall anchoring her with his hand, it simply ensured she wouldn't fall clear over. In hearing Lizzie start sobbing even before the nurse administered the vaccine; Mary began to feel the pangs of guilt. It was her, who had always been so manic over her children's health, that was making her go through this.

"What about this one?" Heather spoke through the chaos, apparently used to wailing children. "Lefty or righty?"

"Right, so you'd better go for her left arm," Marshall supplied, just as he realized in all the commotion that Lizzie had left her bear on the floor. "Here's Pretzel; do you want him?"

Lizzie was crying too hard to answer, wrapped up in all her fears like she was about to be sent to execution.

"How long does this take?" Mary asked Heather on a whim as she swabbed Lizzie's arm. "Approximately?"

"To be safe, go with five seconds."

"Lizzie…" Mary spoke as calmly as she could muster. "Daddy's going to count to five and then it'll be over, okay? Not even ten; five seconds, that's it…"

The timeframe did quiet the little girl momentarily, or maybe it was the need to close her mouth to gulp for a few breaths of air. Her tiny nails were still biting into Mary's back from where she sat with her head over her mother's shoulder, but at least she stopped resisting.

"Okay?" Marshall prompted, fully ready to commit to the task. "Here we go…"

He watched carefully from his side of the bed, waiting for the exact moment when needle made contact with tissue. The minute he saw the shot hit its mark, he spouted off, prepared to be of service.

"One…two…"

It was on 'three' that the prick and pressure combined must've kicked in; because the quiet that had fallen since Lizzie's momentary lapse in horror was shattered in an instant. She screamed – a truly bloodcurdling, bone-chilling, gut wrenching scream that made her jump, fortunately not enough to mess up the injection, but enough that Mary had to pull her back.

"Lizzie, its okay…"

"Three…four…"

"Stop-stop!" the bawling in Mary's ear was enough to make her want to hit the nurse to grant her daughter's request, but reassurances were all she had.

"I know…you're almost there…"

"Five."

"That's it!" Heather declared buoyantly. "You are all finished, missy! Would you like a fun band aid too?"

But, Lizzie was gone, a tragic heap in Mary's lap, still howling to beat the band. Grateful she didn't have to hold her still anymore, she patted her wiry curls and then rubbed circles onto her back, all the while trying to contemplate what her five-year-old's threshold for pain was really like.

"You're all right…" Mary reminded her consolingly. "You're okay. You're all done. I'm proud of you, Liz."

This didn't have the same effect on her daughter as it did on her son. All she received in return were mumbled, muttered recounts of her harrowing experience.

"It hurt bad…it poked…it poked my arm…"

"Take a breath, baby," Mary advised, seeing that Marshall and Ben had taken up the task of choosing an appropriate band aid. "You'll feel better."

It was a wonder she was able to inhale and exhale at all, the way she was going. Seeing that she wasn't going to be able to uncurl her from the fetal position if they stayed the way they were, Mary opted to stand once more, coaxing Lizzie to commence with her theatrics while being held upright.

"You were a pro, Lizzie…" Marshall honored his little girl with a pat on the shoulder, lying through his teeth about how plucky she'd been. "We found you a great band aid; it has these lovely hearts on it…"

"Gross…" Mary commented, hoping to elicit some feedback while Marshall pasted the plaster onto Lizzie's arm. "Who needs hearts?"

Her child did bite, however minimally and with her face still buried, "I…I l-like hearts m-mama…" hiccupping between every word.

"Please…" she kept right on guffawing. "Don't you want something like dinosaurs or dump trucks?"

This time, Lizzie surfaced, showing what a mess her face had become. She looked more puzzled than amused, but at least Mary's little diversion had made her stop crying long enough to think.

"I…I don't like…dump trucks…" she said in a small voice, as though Mary were slightly touched in the head.

"No?" the blonde teased. "Well then, I guess hearts will have to do if that's your thing…"

Before Lizzie could twist around enough to get a look at her lovey-dovey band-aid, Mary's cell phone went off in her pocket. Groaning because she knew she couldn't reach it without releasing her daughter, she slipped her to the floor with muttered promises that she'd only be a minute.

"Hang on…" stooping to the ground, she made sure Lizzie was secure before digging her cell out, for Marshall was busy asking Nurse Heather a few questions. "Give me a second." Retrieving the phone, "This is Mary."

"Hey kiddo, it's me."

Stan. Probably wondering where she was, as the doctor's office had been running behind even before they'd gotten there, despite being some of the first appointments of the day.

"Hey, what's up?" Mary responded. "Sorry, Marshall and I are a little late, but we're just heading out the door."

"No problem," Stan claimed easily. "I was just checking up on you; seeing to it that the kids survived their shots."

"Barely," Mary decided. "I'll take a picture of Ben with his Superman band aid and send it to you; he'll love that."

"You know I love one who is willing to rouse the troops…" her boss was big on rallying. "Kept Miss Lizzie in check, I suppose?"

"Well, not really…"

But, no sooner were the words out of Mary's mouth than she noticed what was going on right at her feet. Marshall, getting all sorts of what promised to be useless information from the nurse, was totally absent from the happenings. Mary would've been too, had she consumed herself in Stan, but mention of the twins had her eyes straying to their forms. She'd never be able to thank Stan enough for providing her with the opportunity she would've otherwise missed.

Lizzie was still weeping, looking wholly shaken up, hesitating like she was trying to decide whether or not to rub her sore arm. Ben was standing about two feet away – the pair of them were too distanced to be together, yet too close to call apart. From what Mary could see, Ben was studying the bright green lollipop in his hand. Lizzie's, which she had mostly disregarded, was a shade of plum.

"I didn't want purple…" Mary heard her mumble, and everyone in the vicinity knew she'd never have the gumption to ask for a different flavor.

Apparently, this solidified whatever Ben had been waffling on, "Do you want mine?" he held out his candy without a second thought.

"What flavor's green?" Lizzie asked, sniffling to keep her nose from dripping.

"Lime. Or apple."

Lizzie didn't dither about once Ben resolved to be generous, "Can I?"

"Sure."

Lizzie moved to hand over her sucker, but Ben stopped her, "You can have both."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They're yours."

And in a gesture that made Mary forget completely that she was on the phone with her chief, she felt her heart melt into an overflowing puddle as Ben put one arm around his sister, unmistakably hugging her, wanting to help, wanting to comfort. She was well aware, even in her stupor, that he'd done it because he didn't think anyone was watching, and so she had to be careful not to call attention to herself.

Lizzie visibly sunk into his soft motion, their all-but identical heads knocking together.

"Can you give me some of your super powers so my arm will feel better?"

She sounded so earnest, so faithful, and Ben adopted a persona so different from his usual arrogant self. Without a word, he let go and patted her good arm, offering a pleasant smile.

"I'll use my x-ray vision and burn a hole where they stuck you so it won't hurt anymore."

Mary almost laughed at this logic, if not for being so touched, but Lizzie bought into every word.

"Thanks Ben."

Before returning to what was probably an important phone call with Stan, Mary couldn't help but be thumped by a notion that had been following her around since Holly had gone into the hospital. How could people like Brandi and her father bail in the hardest moments? How could her sister refuse to be by her child's side when she was writhing in pain, as Mary had done with Lizzie?

Hard it might have been, but it was almost worth it to see this – pure, tender, wholesome innocence – as the end result. She could only hope Brandi would still be around when that day finally arrived for Holly.

XXX

A/N: I hope the chapters aren't getting too long! They tend to be about this length from here on out! I also hope the shots thing wasn't too dramatic – it made for some good Mary/Marshall/twin cuddling!