Marshall ran his fingers through Mary's hair, the action drying the damp strands. He felt her breaths evening out, getting slower and deeper against his neck, and even though he was starting to lose feeling below the knee, short of another hit man coming through the door, he wouldn't have disturbed her for the world. He knew that this one moment in time was tenuous and fragile – that any minute it could burst like a bubble and she would wake up and withdraw from him. Their conversation had remained unfinished – her question unanswered. As far as he was concerned, now that he had Mary, had her body and soul, nothing short of death would make him let her go.

Unless she asked him to.

Marshall squeezed his eyes against the glare of the setting sun on the water and the pain that lanced through his heart. He had thought that the pain of being without Mary – of seeing her with Raph, watching her nearly get married to the Dominican ballplayer had been the worst pain he could endure.

But now that he knew the thrill of being with her – knew what she tasted like, what her skin felt like under his, the way she marked him, the sounds she made when they made love . . . the thought that she could walk away before giving them a real chance made his blood run cold. He knew she was afraid – afraid of losing him, afraid of being left.

Mary stirred against his chest. "Marshall," she murmured sleepily.

Marshall stroked his fingers through her hair, slowly. "I'm here," he whispered. She made a sound so close to a purr that he bit back a grin as she snuggled further into his neck.

"You don't look like much of a hell cat now, Sunshine," he teased her softly.

"Hmm," she murmured.

He laughed; content that she felt safe enough with him to let down her guard and sleep for awhile in his arms. Mary had always been the kind of woman who was constantly on the alert and he still remembered the day he had penetrated the last of her defenses. Hell, it had taken him two years to do it! He took the opportunity now to survey her body – to appreciate its loveliness, but also to make sure she had been taking care of herself. He had noticed right away that she was a few pounds lighter – she definitely hadn't been eating as much as usual, which was strange. Mary was always stuffing her mouth full of food. The next thing he noticed were the heavy circles under her eyes.

"Oh my love," he breathed softly. "Between caring for Sadie and me, have you gotten any sleep?"

He was glad she wasn't awake to hear his term of endearment, knowing that she would have smacked him for it. Dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, he continued his survey. The rest of her body seemed fine, except for a slight bruise on her right calf and the band-aid on her right thumb. He had noticed the thumb earlier but she had waved his concern away saying she had cut herself while slicing pineapple a couple days before. But he would have to ask her about the bruise on her leg later.

Suddenly the squeal of brakes and the slamming of car doors broke the peaceful atmosphere of ocean waves.

"Grumpy!" Sadie cried.

Mary jerked awake in his lap, nearly falling out of the chair as the girl's cry pierced her unconscious brain. "What is it?"

"Sadie-" Marshall started to explain but Mary was already scrambling out of his lap and running for the patio door.

"Jenna! We're out back!" Mary called.

Suddenly, Sadie was there, flinging her arms around Mary's waist, sobbing and babbling incoherently. "Grumpy! Car – shot – Star- scared – " she broke down completely, burying her face in Mary's skirt.

Mary made shushing sounds as she rocked the girl back and forth, and searched Jenna's face as the other woman appeared around the side of the house. "What happened?"

"Just as we were leaving the restaurant, a car backfired, scaring the kids. Sadie didn't react at all, not at first and then she was hysterical – I could barely get her in the car to get back here." Jenna sighed. "It was just like the night you cut yourself, Mary."

The women shared a look and Mary nodded as Marshall wheeled himself over to join them. "What's going on? What night?"

Sadie looked at Marshall for a long moment in shock before she broke away from Mary. "Star? Sadie think-"

Marshall frowned. "What? What did you think, Sadie girl?"

With renewed sobs, Sadie flew to him, climbed into his lap and clung to his neck. "No leave Sadie."

Marshall shook his head as he held her close. "I'm here, Sadie girl."

Mary turned to Jenna and led her back into the kitchen, out of earshot. "Is Jacen ok?"

"He's a little shaken up – she was kicking and screaming all the way back here, but he's okay."

"None of her kicks made contact with him?"

"No, she kicked the back of my seat."

Mary chuckled. "I bet that made for a fun ride."

Jenna smiled. "It's not like I haven't ever had a screaming kid in the car before. But it's always been my own!"

Mary groaned. "That's another reason not to have any kids."

Jenna sobered. "What are you guys going to do? Sadie is one traumatized little girl."

Mary sighed. "I know – but there's not much we can do at the moment. We're in a holding pattern until her mother wakes up."

Jenna bit her lip. "I hate to be a pessimist, but have you thought about what you're going to do if her mother doesn't wake up? I mean with every day that goes by, Sadie just gets more and more attached to the two of you."

Mary glanced out the sliding door, to see Marshall still holding a sobbing Sadie in his arms. "I know, Jenna. I know."

Alison's head flew up with a start and she snorted in surprise as she realized that once again she had drifted off. Her eyes flew in alarm to the clock on the wall by the bathroom, and her racing heartbeat slowed when she saw that only three minutes had passed since she had last looked at it. Thank God! Some watchdog I make! At least there's still the police officer stationed outside – otherwise some other hired gunman could sneak in here and kill my daughter and I'd sleep through the whole thing! Snorting in disgust, Alison got up to pace, hoping the movement would wake her up a little bit.

She looked down at the still, pale face of her daughter and her heart constricted as the doubts and fears whispered in her mind. Had she done the right thing all those years ago? Perhaps there had been a way for her to keep Angela and raise her herself. Thousands of women did it every day – maybe she had given up too soon. Just because she was still in college and working two jobs to pay for her schooling and – no, Alison shook her head. There hadn't been any other way. She'd done the best she could for her daughter. She'd left her at St Agatha's church, given her the name Angela, kept tabs on her, and then provided for her financially as soon as she was able to.

But she'd never been a mother to her daughter. Never been there to dry her tears, give her advice about boys, or keep her from repeating her own mistake about getting pregnant too soon.

"Oh Angela, I'm sorry," Alison whispered. "I should have come to you – offered you a home – but I was scared, afraid of what you'd think of me. So instead I just kept sending you money, thinking I could provide for you that way. And look at what happened-" she stopped to clear her throat. "I know, I know. If I'd been around, there's no guarantee you'd have listened to your mother about boys but- OH!"

Carmen's eyes were open, blinking at the ceiling in disorientation. Alison crossed the room and leaned over the bed, taking one of her daughter's hands.

"Ang- Carmen?"

Carmen's dark eyes swiveled slowly to meet the older woman's, and she frowned in confusion.

"You're in the hospital, you've been shot – do you remember?" Alison prompted as she pushed the call button.

Carmen's brows drew together as she shook her head. She tried to speak but the ventilator prevented her and her eyes widened in panic. Alison was quick to interpret her fear.

"That was to help you breathe – you can't speak with it in. I'm sure the doctors will take it out now that you're awake."

Carmen pantomimed writing and Alison dove for her purse, handing the young woman a small notepad and pen. Carmen scribbled: Where's Sadie? and showed it to Alison.

Alison smiled reassuringly. "She's safe – she's with Marshall and Mary."

Carmen's eyes fluttered closed in relief before she scribbled on the pad again. Who are you?

Alison's heart was in her throat as she whispered, "I work with them."

Carmen's eyes held many questions but the doctor came in just then and she turned away.

Alison picked up her purse and left to call Stan, praying that there would be time to tell Angela who she really was before her daughter was relocated.

Sadie jerked fitfully in her sleep and Mary pulled the sheet back up to cover the little girl's trembling body. She couldn't tell if Sadie was shaking from the slight breeze coming from the open window or the terrors of her nightmares.

"No," Sadie whimpered, her fingers clutching Mr. Bear tighter to her chest.

Mary smoothed a few strands of hair back from the girl's forehead and began to hum a lullaby. She hadn't hummed since she herself was a girl and she had needed to soothe Squish. Mary smiled at the memory. Brandi had been scared of so many things: the dark, spiders, snakes, monsters under the bed or in the closet, and thunder. From the ages of two to eight, Squish had not only shared Mary's room, but her bed as well, squeezing her older sister so tight that Mary wondered if she would ever be able to breathe again. Mary's humming was the only thing that calmed her fears some nights – just like it seemed to be working with Sadie now.

Sadie moved in her sleep toward the sound of Mary's voice, rolling onto her side, and sighed. Her fingers slowly released their death grip on the sheet and Mr. Bear fell to the floor as her breathing deepened. Mary leaned forward to pick up Mr. Bear and put him next to the pillow. She dropped a kiss on Sadie's head before she left the room, making sure to keep the door ajar.

Mary leaned her head against the doorframe wearily and nearly jumped out of her skin as warm, familiar hands fell on her shoulders. With a sigh, she leaned back into Marshall's embrace.

"Isn't it a little soon to be putting weight on that leg?" she chastised.

He ignored her. "Sadie's asleep?" he breathed in her ear.

"For now."

"Come sit with me in the living room – you owe me some explanations."

She turned in his hold. "I do?"

He nodded. "About what's been going on while I've been out of commission?"

She snorted. "You mean in a coma?"

"Hey, you induced it."

"Touché."

He tugged at her hand. "Come on – sit with me."

"Only if you put your leg up."

He saluted even as he reached for his crutches that had been leaning against the wall. "See? I'm being a good boy."

Marshall let Mary fuss over him – propping his leg up on the couch, putting a pillow behind his back, even getting him a drink from the kitchen, before he finally sighed and grabbed her around the hips.

"Come here." He settled her on the couch in front of him, pulling her flush against him.

Mary resisted her body's initial rush of pleasure the contact with Marshall produced but in the end the sleep deprivation was too much for her and within the space of a minute her head was nestled on his collar bone.

He chuckled beneath her. "Was that so difficult? I just wanted you to slow down for a minute and relax."

There was a stinging sensation behind her eyes that alarmed her and she blinked rapidly. "I can't."

"Why not?" he asked softly.

"Because there's too much to do-"

"I beg to differ. Sadie is asleep, I'm finally awake and on the mend, thanks to your excellent nursing skills. I think it's time for you to take a well deserved break."

The stinging sensation grew worse and Mary shook her head. "No," she repeated and tried to get up, but Marshall's arms held her in place. "Let me go."

"Never."

"Marshall-"

"Listen, we need to talk about Sadie and what I missed while I was sleeping but right now I want you to get some sleep. Nothing good can come of us having a conversation when you are this sleep deprived."

The battle had been lost and the tears were falling down her face. How could she tell him that she had her own demons? That Sadie wasn't the only one that had nightmares? That every time she closed her eyes, she found herself back at that cabin by the lake but this time – this time-

Marshall had felt Mary's breathing change, had felt it speed up, grow shallow and fast. He pulled away from her in concern to see her staring into space, her chest heaving as she tried to get enough air. He shook her. "Mary! Snap out it!"

Slowly her eyes focused on him and her breathing came back under control. "I – what happened?"

He sighed as he pulled her back into his arms. "You tell me."

"I was thinking about the day we found you and Sadie – and my nightmares."

He rubbed her arms soothingly. "Go on."

She swallowed and shook her head against his chest. "I can't."

"You have to, Mer. Say it."

She lifted her face to his. "In my nightmares, when I find you, you're – dead."

He brushed away some of her tears with his thumbs. "And now you're wondering if a relationship with me is worth it, because even though I didn't die then, I could still die tomorrow."

She hit his shoulder. "Don't say that!"

He lifted an eyebrow. "But it's true – I could, so could you."

She lifted her hand and covered his mouth. "Please don't. I can't-"

He kissed her fingers, and then removed them to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry, I told you that we wouldn't talk until you got some sleep and look what happened. You go into the other bedroom and get some sleep."

She shook her head. "No, Sadie will be up soon – she never stays asleep long and-"

"And I'll take care of her when she wakes up," he finished firmly. "You are officially relieved, Mary Shannon."

She looked at him, blurry eyed with fatigue and open mouthed with astonishment. "You're sure?"

He snorted. "How many hours of sleep have I gotten in the last four days compared to you?"

She groaned. "Don't make my head hurt by asking me to do math!"

He slapped her butt. "Go to bed, Mer."

She gave him a peck on the lips as she stood, her eyes heavy lidded with desire and sleep. "I wish you were coming with me."

His heart swelled with love for the woman before him. "Next time, love."

Carmen took another sip of sprite, silently thinking that nothing had ever tasted so good. Her eyes met Chief Inspector McQueen's across the room and she smiled. "You look like you still can't believe I'm here."

Stan smiled. "You have no idea how relieved I am that you pulled through, Carmen."

She shook her head slowly. "It's really been a week since-" her voice trailed off, and a hand came up to rub her temple. "I'm afraid my memory of that night is still vague."

"What do you remember?"

"Picking Sadie up from her preschool – going home and having dinner together – tucking her in and reading her a story," Carmen shook her head again. "After that – I remember taking a book and going to bed early. I don't remember Tony and Gino coming to the house – is that what Sadie says happened?"

Stan took a deep breath before he responded. "Sadie told Marshall that Gino woke her up and tried to carry her out of the house. She struggled and bit Gino's hand, and when he dropped her, she ran and hid."

Carmen smiled. "That's my baby." But suddenly she sobered and her eyes grew haunted as she looked at him. "But that doesn't explain what happened to me. Oh God, did Sadie see me get shot? Did she see her father shoot me?"

Stan swallowed. "We don't know. None of us have come right out and asked Sadie that question and when we asked her where you and her dad were that night-"

"What? Tell me," Carmen demanded.

"She got very upset and wouldn't talk about it."

Carmen swore in Italian under her breath. "Where is she? I've got to see her – hold her, reassure her I'm all right."

Stan cleared his throat uncomfortably as his eyes skittered away from hers. "She's with Marshall and Mary – she's fine, Carmen. Right now you just need to concentrate on getting better so you can testify."

"Where's my daughter, Chief McQueen?" Carmen's tone was firm, her gaze direct.

"I don't know – exactly."

Carmen jerked forward, the movement causing pain to travel through her upper body from her wound. She moaned as she forced the words through clenched teeth, "What the hell does that mean – you don't know exactly?"

"It means that she's under the protective custody of my best team in an undisclosed location."

Carmen's blood ran cold. "Why – what's happened?"

"I think this can wait until you're-"

"So help me if you don't tell me right now what's going on, I'll find a way to get discharged this afternoon and-"

"All right, Carmen, all right," Stan soothed. "This wasn't something I wanted to tell you so soon after you woke up but you forced my hand. But please, try to remain calm and remember that Sadie is safe with Marshall and Mary."

Carmen crossed her arms and glared at him but said nothing, merely waited for him to continue. In as few words as possible, Stan filled her in on what had happened while she had been sleeping: the transfer to Denver, the kidnapping of Sadie and Marshall, and the successful rescue. He left out the part that Sadie might have been an eye witness to the shooting of a US Marshal but he did briefly mention that her arm had been broken while she was being held hostage. He summed up his narrative by saying that Mary had thought it best if no one knew their location, not even Stan.

"Given all that had happened, I agreed. But I talked to them just last night and everyone is doing fine," Stan finished his report and dared to look at Carmen for the first time.

The young mother was staring at her lap, tears streaming silently down her face, the quiet sobs shaking her slender frame. Stan got up and moved quickly to her side, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hand.

"I'm sorry, Carmen. So sorry that we didn't do a better job of-"

She lifted her face to his. "Why? Why try to move her in the first place? I'd arranged for Marshall to keep her, to take care of her when I was out of town to testify-"

He shook his head. "Your getting shot changed a lot of things, Carmen. We didn't know when or if you were going to wake up – and Marshall had to protect you, Sadie, as well as cover other aspects of this investigation. Believe me, as much as he wanted to, our bosses wouldn't let him focus on one four year old girl."

Carmen swiped at her tears with the hanky. "Because he's not her father – although I wish to God he was! I mean, look at her own father. He shot me and arranged his own daughter's kidnapping-"

"We don't know for sure that he did either of those things-"

She snorted before blowing her nose noisily. "The hell we don't. I don't need the missing pieces of my memory to know exactly the kind of man my husband is."

Stan let her compose herself for a few moments before he cleared his throat. "I know I've given you a lot to absorb, but I do need your help, Carmen."

She nodded. "Anything to put Tony away for life, I'll do it."

"I have a couple of pictures I want you to look at – one is the man who kidnapped Sadie and Marshall. Apparently he was a US Marshal, but we've been trying to figure out how he's connected to the Forelli family." Stan handed her a 5x7 glossy photo.

Carmen studied it for a moment before she shook her head. "I've never seen him before, sorry. It's possible he does have a connection to the family – I've been dating Tony since I was fifteen and he was sixteen. So I've only been to family functions and parties for the past five years."

Stan nodded as he pulled a second photo from his briefcase. "There was a third man on the surveillance tape at the train station in Santa Fe with your husband and Gino that we're also trying to identify. I know it's a long shot but-" He held out the photo.

Sighing, Carmen took it and barely glanced at it before gasping in surprise. "This man? The one on the left?"

Stan's pulse had quickened at her reaction. "Yes, do you know him?"

Carmen nodded, her eyes wide. "That's Gino's brother, Stefano."

A/N: So, my dear readers, when writing this tale, I argued with my muses A LOT about whether or not Carmen should or should not wake up. (This story would be shorter if she didn't!). Now that she has - stay tuned for the truth about what happened the night of her shooting and of course, Tony's trial.

Reviews are LOVE!