Only 2 more chapters left after this one! btw, thanks soo much Dawnie-7 for sticking w/ me and readingthiswhole thing... your reviews are always so nice and encouraging ). and thanks Avril-Armstrong for your review too, i was so excited to see that someone new was actually reading this! Everyone else, plz keep reading and reviewing, and hope you like the rest of the story.
lazuli-rain

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Mort saw her crumple to the ground, as though she had been shot by a silent gun. Without thinking he ran to her, words like concussion and coma reverberating in his mind disconnectedly. He'd seen her hit the ground, seen the blood on her face. Oh God Marah, please don't... Oh God, please…

He ran to her limp body, immediately knelt, and moved her to a comfortably lying position. She was breathing and had a pulse, but it was slow and irregular. His own heart started racing. Ice? Heat? Blanket? Should he move her?

"Marah," he whispered to her. "Forgive…"

Then he stopped. Of course he had no right to ask her that. She could never forgive him, just as he could never forgive himself. That was right, and inevitable. Then what could he say to her?

"Don't forgive me, Marah. I understand, I do. I'm so sorry. I would die a million times if that would help you to erase my memory. I wish I could. But know…" and he stroked the dark hair back from her forehead, where it was becoming matted in blood, "…Know that I love you. You chased the dark away, you chased him away. You came and you dug up all the secrets, all the pain and the madness and the fear, but you dug up whatever flicker of goodness I used to have in me too. Remembering you, remembering us, that's what gave me the strength to fight, to win. You saved me.

"Marah, please, please wake up…"

But Marah stayed unconscious, her breathing steady and even now, her face relaxed and smooth, as if she were only sleeping.

I lie smiling like our sleeping children… one of us will…

"NO," said Mort suddenly, pushing the song line out of his head. "Marah," he shook her less gently. "Marah!"

Suddenly a distant siren sounded, rapidly drawing closer until in a matter of moments the ambulance was turning into his driveway, its bright headlights momentarily blinding him. The door opened and two EMTs jumped out, a stretcher between them; behind them came four armed police guards. They drew their weapons and trained them on Mort.

"Step away from the victim. Hands in the air." Dave Noose's voice was brusque and dry. Mort complied, feeling only vague surprise. It figures that cops would accompany any 911 call to his house. He stood up, his palms open. They were smeared with blood from her cut, he realized.

Oh well, he thought. So what if I'm falsely convicted and sent to jail for this. Just because they came at the wrong time, it doesn't change the fact that I probably do belong in federal prison… He felt strangely calm and detached. He just hoped Marah would be alright.

The paramedics had checked her vitals by this point, and were lifting her onto the stretcher. One of them grabbed her under the legs.

"I think she has a broken ankle too—" he began to say, but the four policemen instantly tensed and moved closer, still pointing their guns at him. He fell silent. The paramedic, not having comprehended, took hold of Marah's ankle firmly. She moaned, her eyes opening but not focusing on anything, her face contorted with pain.

Mort tried to go to her, but two of the policemen took hold of his arms while a third stayed in front of him, his gun still drawn. Dave Noose, as though waiting for this moment, unclipped a pair of handcuffs from his belt and strode around behind the struggling Mort, going through his spiel as he put them on.

"Morton Rainey, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Marah Carraway. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right…" Mort wasn't saying anything, but he was still straining against the two officers holding him, trying to get a glimpse of how Marah was doing. She didn't seem to know where she was yet, but her eyes were wide open and she was making sounds.

"Miss Carraway," someone was saying to her. "You've been hit in the head. You're alright, you need to relax. We're taking you to the hospital."

She was becoming alert. "Where… where am I?"

"You're…" the paramedic seemed to hesitate.

Marah sat up, holding her head. The two paramedics tried to get her to lie back down, saying something about blood pressure and fainting, but she looked past them as if they were trees. "Mort?"

Dave Noose answered before Mort could say anything. "You're safe, miss. This man attacked you with a rock. We have him, we're taking him in."

She was squinting at the five of them in the darkness, Mort framed by the four guards. Mort couldn't read her expression, nor could she see his. There was a long moment of silence. Then, her voice very clear although she sounded weak and tired, she said, "What are you doing? Let him go."

Noose's eyes widened. He walked around to stand before her. "Miss, you're making a mistake. He tried to kill you!"

"What? I fell, and I hit my head. Mort called the ambulance for me."

"You… you sure?" Noose seemed bewildered. If this were true, why had the man seemed so ready when the police arrived, so eager to get arrested? He looked back at Mort, standing there with his hands cuffed behind his back and his expression unreadable. "Miss Carraway, this man is a dangerous criminal. If you're trying to protect him…"

"I'm telling you the truth," she said, her voice growing stronger. "Ask him. Ask him what happened."

Noose looked uncertainly between the two of them, the young woman whose skin was at the moment so pale it looked translucent, the man with dark shadows on his face and darker mysteries in his eyes. He walked over slowly to stand before Mort.

"She telling the truth?" he asked, staring him in the eyes.

Mort looked at him without a flicker of emotion. After a long time, he said, "She twisted her ankle, too. When she fell. And yeah, she's telling the truth, Noose."

There was no choice, then, but to un-cuff the man, wish him a good night, get back in the ambulance, and take the woman to the hospital. So, very reluctantly, that is what Noose did.