Updated author's note:
Edited with some changes, additions, descriptions. Nothing plot altering.
Author's note:
Thanks for all the reviews! I do love hearing everyone's thoughts.
The big conversation is finally here! This chapter hasn't been easy. I wanted to get it just right and I second-guessed almost every piece of dialogue about whether or not it could be seen as in-character. Here's hoping I've succeeded.
I've got some ideas as to where this is going next and I'm getting started right now.
Again, mistakes are my own, but I've re-read a billion times.
xxxxx
He pulled up beside her house just after 2am. Before he turned onto her street, he had considered driving straight past the house to return to the hotel, knowing he should take more time to think about what he needed to say. However, when he saw that the lights were still on, the temptation to talk to her, regardless of how late it was, could not be denied. His emotional state was quite raw, and he was feeling rather edgy, but the need to seek further insight and some sort of resolution was governing his actions. As he got out of his truck, he considered that she might be up because she was busy with Norah, but he walked up to her house and knocked on the door anyway.
She was alarmed by the sound of knocking. Having spent most of the night alternating between crying and staring off into space, mourning the loss of her best friend, she was in no mood to deal with anyone. Her eyes narrowed and she looked out the window. She kept her distance from the door, highly suspicious of what might show up at two o'clock in the morning. She gasped when she saw Marshall's truck parked on the side of the street, as he was truly the last person she had expected to see after what had transpired between them earlier that day. She walked over to the entryway, looking out another window on her way to make sure it was really him. She slowly opened the door.
"Hey," he grumbled as their eyes locked.
"Hey," she whispered as she let him in. He looked about as miserable as she felt. He studied her face for a moment before stepping in, the blotchy redness and swollen eyelids betraying the cool exterior she was trying to present.
"Where's Norah?" he inquired as he walked into the kitchen, noticing no signs of the baby.
"I asked Mark to take her for the night. I just needed a little time to try to... process." He nodded in response, his back still facing her, but was silent. "What's up?" she asked.
"I have some questions," he began suddenly and turned to her. "If you do not answer honestly, if you do not give me your complete cooperation, I'm leaving."
"Okay," she nodded, surprised by his choice to be uncharacteristically direct with her. "Anything." She almost gestured to move the conversation into the living room, but noticed Marshall stood like a statue, feet cemented in place. He didn't give her the moment to ask him to come sit down and quickly fired off his first question.
"Why did you tell me that you love me? Why didn't you keep it to yourself? You've clearly managed to do just that for quite some time now," he demanded.
"I'm sorry. I..." she lowered her gaze, shame apparent yet again.
"Don't apologize," he interrupted roughly. She quickly lifted her head to look at him with narrowed eyes, startled by his coarse tone. "Just answer the question."
She exhaled heavily, unsure of what to say. She bought herself a moment by walking around to the side of the kitchen island to stand adjacent to him, the corner of the countertop between them. He turned again to face her, as she took a deep breath. She began slowly, returning to the precarious limb she stepped out onto 12 hours earlier. "Marshall... you are the only person on this whole damn planet who understands me. Who knows really knows me. Who I can count on. I… I know I hardly ever show it, but… I… deeply… appreciate you. And I do I love how your mind works, always, even when I'm exasperated and calling you an idiot. I love the team that we make and I know it's unbalanced, what I actively give in return, but I would do anything for you too."
"You don't think Abigail does those things for me?"
She deflated at his words. "I'm… I'm sure she does. I didn't mean that she didn't. But... you are in my circle, however small it is, of people I would do anything to protect. I will always have your back and I do find some solace in knowing that you will always have mine. I just... I don't want to lose you. I know I have no claim whatsoever to you Marshall. I don't deserve you. But you are like my compass. You make me a better person. And you should know that."
He was quiet as he pondered her answer. He was touched, but didn't allow himself to show it. He had a lot of questions and he wouldn't be able to get through them if he got soft now.
"Why wait until now? Why didn't you say something before, like before we moved in together?!"
"I didn't think you would actually do it. I never thought it would get to this point. Honestly, at first I thought you were going out with her just to get back at me."
"At first, I WAS. But as it turns out, she's pretty great," he replied, annoyed at his own confession.
"I know. You've told me," she muttered, wondering if he came here just to rub his new wonderful life in her face.
Ignoring her remarks, Marshall asked his next question. "Why do you say you don't deserve me?"
She sighed and began to speak softly, while toying with the corner of a napkin sitting on the countertop. "Because I don't treat you very well. You have a mental encyclopedia of knowledge to offer but I always tell you to shut up. I don't give enough in return. I push you away. The only thing I'm good at is my job, which therefore makes me a very uninteresting person. I'm directionless and have no life goals. And my family is absolute chaos, and I'm pretty sure they've ruined me from being able to really connect with anyone." She sighed in irritation, disliking having to be her own punching bag.
Marshall felt bad for prompting her to criticize herself, but he also gained a certain satisfaction from it. She actually admitted that her behavior could be objectionable, though he didn't really believe anything she said after 'I push you away'. Her comments about herself as a person warranted further discussion, but not just yet. He refocused. He wasn't here to make her feel better. "Do you feel bad about these things?"
"What?" she asked with irritation. What was he trying to accomplish here? "Yes. Every day. Thank you."
"Why did you say earlier that you don't have anything to offer that I could possibly want?"
"Isn't that just another way to ask why I think I don't deserve you? Same reasons I just gave you!" She was trying hard to control her anger because she wanted to sort things out with him, but he was just pushing every one of her most painful buttons.
"I think it's a valid question," he countered.
"You know what? I have a question. Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be basking in the glow of your engagement right now?" she snarked.
He threw a palm forcefully down onto the countertop and shouted, "Yeah! I am! But I can't go home! I can't face her knowing I still love you!"
His words squashed her anger immediately. She understood his turmoil and appreciated his confession. She wondered what he wanted and if he even knew. Was he just trying to save their friendship so he could move on or was he considering ending things with Abigail? If he ended things with Abigail, did he want to be with her? Was she ready to just jump into a relationship with him? She softened and knew her help was needed for him to try to make sense of what had happened between them. What she had forced upon him.
She looked up at him tenderly. "I understand you are very angry at me. If you just want to rail on me, I'll let you. But I don't think that is why you are really here. I want to fix this too," she whispered, refusing to break eye contact.
Marshall took a deep breath and looked away, resolving to be a little gentler with her. He didn't want his aggression to adversely influence how the conversation would unfold. He relaxed his tense stance and looked back to her. "I'm sorry I'm angry. I just...I'm really confused about what to do here."
"I'm sorry I've put you in this position." She second guessed herself about revealing the next piece of information, but thought it would help him understand. "I guess I should add that the other reason I never said anything before is that I probably was unable. Having Norah has really changed me with... love. I didn't think I knew how to love. I'd never seen a good model as to how it was supposed to work. But I... I think I've grown a lot. The feeling just flows a little more freely."
Marshall considered her reasoning. He was grateful that Norah was having such a positive influence in her life. She deserved to be happy. "I personally am really glad you kept her. She's beautiful. It fills me with joy to know that she has helped you." He paused before addressing her previous statement about not deserving him. "Everyone deserves someone to love them. I don't agree with the reasons that you give for not deserving me. I understand how what you've been through has influenced your personality and I ultimately do not hold it against you. I think that sometimes you let it hold you back. You shouldn't. Because you are a wildly interesting person, with grit and persistence, who has achieved many difficult goals. You are great at a wide variety of things, and I believe that you are very capable of connecting with others. You are just very discriminating and people have to earn it. But I think I've earned it, Mare."
"I know. You have," she confessed.
"So why have you pushed me away?" he asked, surprised that she agreed.
"At the risk of sounding like a broken record... I'm afraid of losing you."
"But pushing someone away eventually makes them go away."
"I know. With a lot of people that is actually the point," she said with a brief wry smile.
"Is it like a test, where if they go away, you can rationalize that you didn't really want them around anyway?" He still didn't understand.
She took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to hold back. "No. It's that all of my relationships are severely damaged. My mother. My sister. Obviously my father. Previous boyfriends. I don't really have any friends. The only relationship I have that isn't completely dysfunctional is the one I have with you. You are the only person I've ever been able to count on. Ever. The only person who has actually been there for me without guilt or question. And I'm terrified to lose that." She fought tears as she continued, her voice lightly trembling. "I try so hard to need no one, to do it on my own, but..." She paused and thrust her hands out in front of her onto the countertop, palms up, like she was pleading with him for mercy, terrified to confess to needing him. Her brief silence finished her sentence for her. She folded her hands together and continued. "Letting you in makes it that much more awful when you leave."
"Why 'when' I leave?" As soon as he asked the question, he knew the answer, and it was visible on his face that he felt terrible for not understanding sooner. Her only answer was a single tear falling over her cheekbone.
With a soft smile, he reached up to her face, and wiped it away with his thumb. He truly hadn't realized he was that important to her. He nodded his head in the direction of the living room and then led her to sit on the couch.
They sat close but without touching. Mary sat forward with her hands clasped and elbows on her knees. Marshall was turned slightly to his right in order to face her, his left hand on his thigh and right arm over the back of the couch. The minute or two of silence that passed allowed Mary to recompose herself. "I'm not going to leave you like your father did. I will always be someone you can count on Mare," he eventually resumed.
She looked down at her hands. This conversation was painfully revealing. "I know you want to be there for me, but if you marry Abigail, there are other more important commitments that will be coming your way. We won't want to lose our friendship, but we all get busy and people drift away."
He knew this was the truth and he again asked himself who it was harder to live without, Mary or Abigail? If Mary had never told him, he would have been okay without Mary. It would have been hard and he certainly had been learning how to separate from her, but it wasn't easy. Knowing what he knew now made it feel like he would never stop wondering what might have been. Separating from Abigail would be extremely difficult, but it occurred to him that once the motions of the break up was over, the actual living without her didn't seem so unbearable.
He quickly moved on to his next question to stop his brain from making a decision before getting more information. "When did you realize you loved me?"
She sighed, unsure of how to verbalize such a thing. "I don't know. It kind of grew on me. There's always been this thing between us," she said evasively.
"Elaborate," he said gently.
"Well, even on our first case we had that connection in the car. That was the first time I'd opened up to anyone in years. And little things accumulated over the years. Like when you helped me get Leo Billups out of that courthouse." She laughed slightly at her next memory. "Earlier he made fun of your jammies and I told him how much of a badass you were."
Marshall chuckled before the seriousness of her tone returned.
"I felt so honored to know you," she added. "And when Jay Arnstein was shot and your trivia about wood was what made us able to solve that case? I was in awe. I mean, fuck, that one still amazes me." She smiled reflectively at the memory. "And my surprise party when Brandi first came out to stay. We walked up to my house and I said that I just wanted to go to bed and not deal with anyone, but at that moment, I really just wanted to fall asleep on the couch while watching a terrible movie with you. Earlier that day, Raph had mentioned not really wanting to come, because we'd 'already done our thing' so I got up and immediately left, and all I could think of was how you would never say such a thing to me."
He frowned and shook his head at Raph's stupidity.
Mary continued. "The whole Treena diamond smuggling bullshit. I was tickled when you thought my lipstick smearing was a kiss. When I was teasing you afterwards, I felt a little disappointment when you dismissed it as 'I'm a guy, it's what we do.'"
He enjoyed hearing her memories and felt vindicated when he learned how far back they went. She hadn't decided she loved him just because she was faced with losing him. "So when did you know?"
"When you were in the hospital after Horst. The thought of you quitting really hurt, and I was really pissed. But when you got shot, I realized that there was nothing worse than you dying. I would have done anything if it meant you wouldn't die. Sitting by your bed, that first night when you were recovering, it all just came crashing down on me."
"Why did you go back to Raph then? It was right after I got out of the hospital." He leaned forward to emulate her elbows on knees position.
"I honestly don't have an answer for that. I knew I loved you but I didn't know what to do with it. Raph just showed up after his surgery and I couldn't just send him away when he needed help. I think when I noticed that he was getting close to Brandi, I got jealous. I didn't want my family taking yet another thing away from me. I shoved my feelings for you aside because I just thought I should just be grateful that you stuck around. Better not press my luck. And it isn't like you had confessed any feelings to me. Hell, in that gas station, I thought you were going to tell me that you couldn't stand being with me and I was the reason you wanted to leave."
"You were."
"What?" she asked and sat upright, surprised because he had previously denied this as the reason. "But you said…"
"That was true too," he interrupted. "But I wanted to leave because I loved you and I didn't think you'd ever love me back. I was having trouble moving on from that, and I thought the only way I could was if I got away from you. I had to try really hard not to tell you that in that conversation. When you asked what the problem was with our arrangement of being each other's only friend, that was the problem. I wanted more. But in that gas station, I got the feeling that you needed me, and I thought it might be enough, even if you didn't love me."
"God, I suck so much at everything Marshall," she said in a rushed exhale, and fell back into the couch.
"No, you don't," he countered as he sat back up and turned to her again, momentarily placing his hand on her knee, then placing it on the back on the couch.
"I wish I knew then."
"No, you don't. You would have run. We wouldn't be here now."
"Where are we exactly? Because this doesn't feel like a good place." She sat up then turned towards him, tucking her left ankle behind her right knee to sit face to face. She pulled a throw pillow onto her lap to rest her elbows on. "It's been strained between us for a long time now."
"Which brings me to an important question." He paused and took a slow breath. A pained expression came over his face, which prompted Mary to know what was coming. "I need to know why you took Faber to Mexico. I can understand the reasons for so many things that you do, but this one... I'm just at a loss"
She toyed at a piece of fabric on the pillow. She knew there was no answer that could justify that decision. "I wish so badly I could give you some reasonable explanation but I have none. You did make me think, Marshall," she said, referring to his words in the office shortly before she left for her vacation. "But then I got mad at myself for briefly thinking that we could have something and I wouldn't destroy it. So, I destroyed us. I was… I was confused and therefore out to make a big mistake."
He shook his head. It wasn't enough. "I know that you know you made a mistake, and I don't want to continue to punish you for it, but you need to know the damage you caused." She solemnly nodded in understanding, which encouraged him to continue. "You really hurt me. You just crossed this line, unspoken though it was. So, I chose to move on. I no longer believed you would ever acknowledge your feelings for me. I want to say that we can start anew, but a lot has changed."
"I know. I can't express how sorry I really am." she asked, feeling her throat tighten.
"What do you want from me? Really want," he asked tenderly.
"Only anything you are willing to give, Marshall. At this point I recognize that might be very little and I know I've fucked up something huge, but I hope I haven't ruined us permanently. We might not even be friends anymore after this. Do you know how much that kills me?"
"Telling me while I didn't have a girlfriend that I was about to propose to probably would have turned out differently for you," he stated with light sarcasm but without malice. They'd already visited that topic and he wasn't trying to rehash it. After several moments of silence, he continued, "To think of our friendship destroyed kills me too."
"What are you willing to give?" she asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.
"I don't know," he sighed feeling completely torn in two, but with his next breath he soberly added, "Everything."
He sounded lost but Mary saw a glimmer of hope. She placed both of her hands on his knee and began very slowly. "I want everything Marshall. I'm sorry I never told you before, but I'm telling you now."
"How would things be different?" he asked, his tone very serious as he tried not to be distracted by her touch.
"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly afraid to say the wrong thing.
"If I was no longer in a relationship, how would things be different? Between us."
"How would you want things to be?" she asked as she withdrew her hands and resumed fiddling with the pillow.
"Nope. I'm not giving you an answer for this." This had to come from her. He was not going to go through life wondering what she would have said if he hadn't supplied her the words.
She hesitated, afraid to say it out loud. "I'd want us. I don't want things to change with work but I'd want… to be together," she whispered after several moments. "I'd want to build a life together." There it was. She exhaled slowly.
Again, he was shocked by how upfront she was being. "How would you be different?"
"You mean, how I would change?" she asked, wondering if he really wanted her to be someone else.
"No, I don't want you to change who you are. But we can't be together if both of us treat each other the way we have been doing. What would you do to ensure a successful relationship?"
She hung her head, unable to look at him. Asking her to evaluate their hypothetical relationship was heart-wrenching. She was putting everything on the line and she had no idea if he was going to meet her there. But it was a fair question. "I would be more open with you. I can't promise to be perfect Marshall. I don't think I'm capable of not being a pain in the ass, but I wouldn't take you for granted. I'd acknowledge that I recognize all that you do. And thank you. I want to be there for you as you have been there for me. I'd want to move slow; I think we'd need time to grow into the changes, and I'd want to take that time because I don't want to ruin this."
"I want to believe in all of those things," he said with both hope and doubt. She lifted her head to look at him again.
"I know they're just words, but there is proof I can do it Marshall. It's not like I've never let you in. There isn't anyone closer to me than you. You get through to me when no one else does. How many people do you think I've let hold me when I've cried? Sometimes you've been the only thing holding me together."
His gaze drifted to his left as if he was looking towards a far-off place. He spent a few moments replaying the more emotionally intimate moments they've shared, then asked, "And the reason you pull back comes down to not wanting to be too close because of your fear that I'll leave?"
She nodded and he resumed his recall of conversations from the past.
She interrupted his daydream with a moment of boldness. "When did you start loving me?"
He chuckled for a brief moment. Was he really going to discuss his love for her when twelve hours ago he was ready to propose to someone else? In all honesty, he was still trying to figure out what to do. He knew he shouldn't be with Abigail anymore, knowing he was still in love with Mary. But could he really just jump into a relationship with Mary? Would it work? "The interest began by the end of our first case. Professionally. I mean, initially I hated you. I thought you were a complete lunatic, but then I was shocked and impressed how you really helped Claudia and Henry. I was completely bewildered and entranced by your unorthodox measures. I was infatuated by the end of the first year, and the love really grew from there, the more I got to know you," he expressed with fondness.
She scoffed. "Most people hate me after they get to know me."
"I would argue that they didn't actually get to know you. And I'm not most people," he said with a grin.
"Why do you love me?" she pushed further, surprising herself that she dared to ask the question. She knew that he did, but she never understood why. She still regarded herself as largely unlovable.
Marshall took a deep breath as he considered what to say. Could he tell her? "I love you because of how much you care about people. You'll fight for them to the death. You challenge me in ways that drive me insane, but you make me better at my job, and better at life. I love your energy. I can feel the electricity coming off of you. You are so full of passion. I love watching you with Norah. I love our chemistry and the sound of your laughter. I love watching you work and how well our contrasting styles complement each other. I love how pure your heart is. You protect it with the hardest, thickest outer shell I've ever seen, but I love being the one you let inside. I love knowing you better than anyone else in the world. I feel like I know this secret that no one else knows and I feel so lucky." Marshall couldn't believe he just said all of that out loud.
Mary was overwhelmed and didn't know what to say. The silence started to become awkward and Marshall immediately feared she was going to run away. She eventually opened her mouth. "That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," she whispered with a smile and for a moment she looked truly happy.
He reached up with his left hand to place his palm to her cheek. She tilted her head slightly to lean into his touch, then closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them, he leaned a little closer and whispered, "You deserve someone who will tell you how amazing you are, every day." She smiled sadly, looking into his eyes, wishing for that person to be him.
Marshall was overcome by emotion and his heart was racing. He had just verbalized everything he had ever wanted to say to her. He moved closer and leaned forward to pull her into a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder and pressing his head against hers. They sat there for a minute, trying to figure out where they go from here.
Marshall suddenly pulled back, placing his thumbs over her jaw line, wrapping his fingers behind her neck. He studied her eyes: the dilated pupils, liquid pooling in the corners, how the muscles of her eyelids contorted to alternately express love, loss, and confusion. The threat of tears was apparent within his own eyes, but he slowly moved his face closer to hers, compelled to see how he would feel, and how she would react, if he kissed her.
He saw fear flare up in her eyes and she stiffened as she realized he might be about to kiss her. But when she held his gaze and didn't pull away, he closed the distance of the last few inches and finally placed his lips upon hers. The first touch was gentle, but purposeful and seeking, alive with the internal thrills experienced from a long-awaited kiss, despite the mood of uncertainty that hung over them. His lips were soft but firm and she immediately relaxed into his touch, lifting her chin to give him better access. She felt dizzy and placed her right hand on the back of his neck to anchor herself to him, to try to soothe the trembling. He broke contact for the slightest moment as he repositioned his lips, but was instantly back upon her. She melted as he caressed her upper lip, and then her lower lip, before capturing both back against his own. He was taken aback by how he felt like he was drowning, but also soaring, like he had never been more alive. Mary could feel moisture transferred on to her cheek as a tear finally slipped from his eye. She reached up with her left hand to brush his tear away and she could feel him whimper under her lips.
He pulled out of the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. He sat for a moment, breathing heavily with his eyes closed, then whispered, "What do you want Mare?"
He was giving her an out. She lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his again in response, this time with more heat. He parted his lips slightly and her tongue darted out to lick them. He groaned at the sensation, then enveloped her upper lip, sucking ever so slightly. She responded by licking his lower lip then taking it into her own mouth. His hands firmly gripped the sides of her face as she opened her mouth to grant him passage, and he gently slid his tongue shallowly into her mouth and against hers. He thought he was going to explode. He had waited nearly a decade to kiss this woman. He allowed himself the moments of joy before reluctantly pulling away again.
"Wait," was all he could manage as his lips slipped away, his forehead again against her.
"What?" she whispered, not ready to return to reality.
He let his hands fall to her shoulders and lifted his head, looking at her with anguish. "I need to go," he whispered regrettably, though knowing it was the right thing to do. "I still need to figure some things out. I want to do this the right way."
She nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek, not wanting him to go, but knowing he was right. "Are you going home?" she wondered, not liking the idea of him returning to share a bed with Abigail.
"No. I got a hotel in Las Cruces this afternoon. I left my stuff to make myself go back and think about everything there."
She pulled his head down to kiss his forehead and another tear fell from her eye. He wiped this one away then kissed its trail on her cheek. They untangled their legs from the couch and he pulled her up as he stood, immediately wrapping his arms around her in a final hug.
"I can't believe you drove back and forth to Las Cruces today, and you are still going back tonight," she murmured into his shoulder.
"I just needed to get the hell out of Albuquerque. I need to be somewhere removed from my life to figure out where to go next," he whispered.
She understood the need to shut everything out. She wanted to ask him to promise that he would come back to her but she held back in order to give him the freedom to decide what he needed to do. "Just, please drive safe. It's late."
"I will. For you," he whispered, echoing a sentiment from years ago, then released her.
She walked with him to the door, then opened it. He turned to her one last time. "Mare..." he struggled with his words, "No matter what happens...I just want to tell you... I do love you."
"I love you too," she said as she touched her palm to his chest. They gazed uncertainly at each other for a moment, then he lifted her hand from his sternum. He tenderly kissed the back of her fingers and touched her hand briefly to the place over his heart. He then guided her arm back to her side and turned to walk out through the door. She watched as he climbed into his truck and drove off.
She shut the door then returned to her couch. Thinking about everything they had just discussed, still in disbelief that they had finally kissed, she curled up and pulled a blanket over herself. She shed a few tears before quickly falling asleep, completely emotionally exhausted.