And now we have arrived at what just might be my favorite chapter of the story (so far). It's shorter than the others, but there's so much emotional stuff and what-have-you, that it felt right to keep it short. There is a lot of angst and protective Mary (which many of ya'll have seemed to enjoy) and at the end, there is a pretty harsh cliffhanger. Be warned, and enjoy this new chapter!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

IPSIPSIPSIPS

And wild horses

Couldn't drag me away

-The Sundays, Wild Horses

Sunday afternoon marked a week since Marshall was shot. After Stan suspended Mary, she had refused to leave Marshall's side for anything. Even Anna and Seth couldn't convince her to take a break. Eventually Sheila was kind enough to have a cot brought into the room so that Mary could at least attempt to get some sleep.

It wasn't until Tuesday morning that Mary finally had enough with not knowing where the case was going. She didn't care that Stan had suspended her, especially not after she received a very informative text message from a friend. She waited for Anna to arrive before she leaned over Marshall and lightly touched his temple.

"I'll be back soon, Doofus. Behave yourself." She smoothed his hair back gently. "Anna, I have to leave for a while. But I'll be back as soon as I can."

Anna watched Mary. "Okay, sweetheart."

"Please, don't leave him alone. And call me if anything changes."

"You know I will."

"Thanks." Mary grabbed her jacket and yanked it on. Then she looked at Marshall one more time before she left his hospital room.

Luckily for her, Stan was nowhere to be seen. She had given her badge to him, but all that meant to her was that she was no longer acting as a marshal. She was a woman hell-bent on revenge and justice for the man who was her best friend.

And she would get it, or die trying.

Twenty minutes after leaving the hospital, Mary pulled up in front of a sleazy hotel. She checked her phone again, making sure she had the right place. She did. Then she pulled her backup piece from under her seat and tucked it into the back of her pants. With another cursory glance at her phone, she got out of the car and jogged over to the room where Vivian's ex, Lonnie DeMarco, was likely hiding.

Without hesitation, she kicked the door open. "Lonnie DeMarco!"

No one was in the room. Swearing, Mary went to the bathroom, and the sight that greeted her caught her by surprise.

Lonnie DeMarco was lying in the bathtub, a single bullet hole in his forehead. He had been dead for a while, by the looks of it. There was a gun on the floor, and blowback on the wall.

"Shit."

Dominic Senser smirked as he removed his gun from the holster and placed it on the table in front of him. By now, someone had probably found Lonnie's body. Lonnie was a tool. So angry at the bitch marshal who had convinced Vivian to dump him, he had sought out Dominic and paid him money to kill her. But since he didn't want it to look like a targeted shooting, he had insisted that Dominic take her out in a public place, and hit a few others as well. But someone had gotten in the way, and because she was still alive after the second shooting, Lonnie had refused to give Dominic the full payment.

Stupid man.

But Dominic was a man of his word. He would take out the female marshal, and just for kicks, he might even get rid of her friend, too. That wouldn't be much of a challenge. He was already half-dead, anyway.

Dominic opened Mary Shannon's file again and began leafing through it.

Oh, yes, there was more than one way to strike a mortal blow at Mary Shannon.

After finding the body and being debriefed (not to mention receiving a rough dressing down from Stan), Mary was finally allowed to go back to Marshall. Lonnie had been seen on the video tapes of the shootings, and the case was officially closed. Mary felt relief, but to some extent, she was still concerned. She dragged her weary self back to the hospital, to Marshall, and tried not to dwell on the knot in her stomach.

Anna was sitting by her son's bed when Mary finally returned, and she smiled at the younger woman. "Mary…"

"How is he, Anna?" she asked gently as she stopped beside Marshall's bed.

"He's still the same."

Nodding, Mary slid her hand into Marshall's and gently squeezed his fingers. She was surprised and delighted when, after a few moments, she felt a squeeze in return. "Hey, you…"

Anna got to her feet. "Is he awake?"

"I don't know, but he just squeezed my hand again."

"I'll go get the nurse." Anna hurried out of the room.

Alone with Marshall, Mary leaned over and lightly touched his cheek with her free hand. "Are you through hiding, Marshall?" she whispered. "I have to talk to you."

A moment later, Marshall's eyelashes fluttered , and his free hand came up to touch his head.

"Marshall?" Mary reached out and gently caught his hand in hers.

Suddenly he thrashed, and his eyes flew open. Mary winced at the panic she saw in his eyes.

"Marshall, calm down!" Before he could pull anything or hurt himself, Mary pressed herself against him and lightly held him against the bed. There was no strength behind the movements, and she murmured into his ear as she held him.

"It's okay, Marshall. Everything is okay. I've got you." She continued to whisper nonsense into his ear. The words didn't matter. All that mattered was her tone, and that he knew she was there for him.

Suddenly Anna and Sheila were in the room, and before Mary could stop her, Sheila injected a syringe into Marshall's I.V.

Slowly Marshall relaxed beneath her, but Mary didn't let go of him right away. Her own heart was racing dangerously.

Sheila looked at Anna. "Do you know what happened?"

Anna shook her head. "Mary said he was squeezing her hand again. That's when I came to get you."

Mary glanced up from Marshall. "He woke up and panicked."

"That's not entirely unusual. We'll keep him sedated tonight, then ease him off of it tomorrow." Sheila looked at one of the monitors. "We'll probably try to take him off of the ventilator tomorrow, too."

A sense of relief flooded through Mary, and she looked down at Marshall's sleeping face. "That's more like it, cowboy." She gently smoothed his hair back out of his eyes.

Anna and Sheila smiled at Mary as she fussed over Marshall. It was obvious how much she cared about him, even if she didn't say it out loud. If there was one person who was always in Marshall Mann's corner, it was Mary Shannon, and nothing would ever change that.

As promised, the next afternoon, Sheila got the order to take Marshall off of the ventilator. He was no longer letting it breathe for him; he was fighting it. Anna and Mary stood by his bed; Mary on his right and Anna on his left. As Sheila removed the tube that had helped him breathe for over a week, Anna blanched and looked away. Mary had a stronger stomach, and she held Marshall's hand tightly as the tube was removed and he breathed on his own for the first time in more than a week.

Sheila looked at Mary after she checked Marshall's breathing and placed a cannula under his nose to deliver fresh oxygen into his lungs. "He seems to be doing very well. He'll probably wake up on his own in a little while." She patted Mary's shoulder. "Call me if you notice anything out of the ordinary."

Mary nodded, too focused on Marshall to do much else. She had planned on going home and sleeping in her own bed last night, but she only lasted about an hour before she returned to the hospital. And now that Marshall was finally off of the ventilator, she wasn't going more than two steps away from his side for a while, at least.

Sheila left the room, and Anna looked at Mary, who was watching Marshall's face with an intensity that was absolutely touching. "Mary?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

Mary finally met Anna's eyes.

"He's okay. That's all I care about." And that was the most honest thing she could say.

Anna just smiled.

Marshall slept for the rest of the afternoon, and by eight, as usual, Anna left for the night after Mary promised to call her if Marshall woke up. Once she was gone, Mary dropped into her chair and took Marshall's hand. In the course of a week, she had touched him more than she had through their entire partnership. He had always thrived on physical contact, and right now was no exception.

With a sigh, Mary leaned forward and rested her head on Marshall's arm, intent on closing her eyes for a few minutes. She was exhausted, and within just a few moments, she was sleeping.

Just after midnight, Mary's eyes flew open, and she glanced around the hospital room, not sure what had woken her. There was no one in the room with her but Marshall. Once she convinced herself that everything was fine, that Marshall was okay, she let out a breath and looked at Marshall's face. But her heart jumped as soon as she realized that his eyes were open.

"Marshall?"

Without hesitation, Mary laid her hand against his forehead. "Marshall, can you hear me?" She kept her voice low and soothing, something she rarely did but was perfectly capable of when it came to Marshall.

He graced her with a sleepy smile, and her stomach flipped again. "Mare…" His voice was hoarse and scratchy, and it was the most beautiful thing Mary had ever heard.

She nodded, fighting to hold back her tears. "Yeah, Doofus. It's me."

"Mm… My Mary…" His eyes were suddenly too heavy to hold open any more, and they slipped shut again.

Mary continued to stroke his hair. "Yeah, pal. I'm yours," she agreed quietly. She was never a woman who liked to be claimed, but with Marshall, it was a different story. She found herself longing to be his.

His eyes didn't open again, and she stayed with him for a few more minutes, just allowing herself the rare pleasure of running her fingers through his hair. Once she was certain he was sleeping again, she stepped out of the room and called his mother to let him know that he'd been awake. It took some insistence, but Mary managed to convince her not to come to the hospital, since Marshall had gone right back to sleep. Anna promised to be up there first thing in the morning, and Mary ended the call, then stepped back into Marshall's room.

He was still sleeping, but his hand had moved to rest over his chest. Mary sat down, then picked up his hand and squeezed it gently. She was delighted when she received a squeeze in return.

"Welcome back, Marshall."

When Marshall opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was Mary. She was curled up in a chair by his bed, her jacket draped over her. He couldn't help wondering how long she had been there, and how long he had been unconscious. The last thing he remembered was Cheryl Johnson's funeral. What the hell had happened, and why was he in a hospital? Had they wrecked leaving the funeral?

A slow, painful burn in his back was making itself present, and before he could stop himself, a soft groan escaped his lips.

There was movement on the other side of the room, and a lamp was turned on beside his bed. He squinted at the woman who approached him.

"Mom?"

Anna smiled tenderly at her son. "Yes, sweetheart. It's me."

He looked around briefly. "What happened?"

"You were shot. You've been here for more than a week, but this is the first time you've been awake for longer than a few minutes." She poured a glass of water, then placed a straw in it and pressed it to her son's lips.

Marshall gratefully took a few sips. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger. "How long has Mary been here?"

"As much as she could be. We… It was scary there for a while, Marshall. We almost lost you."

The quiet voices roused Mary, and she was surprised and happy to see Marshall awake and talking with his mother. Sitting up, she murmured, "How are you feeling, partner?"

Marshall turned his head toward her voice. "Mary…"

She nodded, a shiver going up her spine. "Yeah. I'm here."

He extended a hand to her, and she gladly took it, reveling in the sensation of his long fingers curling around hers. "Are you in any pain, Marshall?"

"Yeah," he whispered, unable as always to lie to her. "My back… What happened?"

"Shh…" He had been lying on his back for a while, so he was probably more sore than he should have been. A couple of times a day, Sheila brought in orderlies to turn him onto his side for a while, to prevent bedsores. Mary always insisted on staying to make sure her partner was not mishandled. Her hand squeezed his in a gesture of comfort. "I'll get a nurse in here to give you something for the pain."

Anna kissed her son's head. "I'll get her." She gave Mary a concerned look before hurrying out of the room.

Getting to her feet, Mary kept her hand in Marshall's as she watched his face. "Try to think about something else, Marshall."

His eyes were becoming glazed with pain, and his breathing was growing more strained. "Like what…?"

"Anything." Her thumb moved across his knuckles. "I've been here with you for over a week. I met your mom and your brothers."

"My mom… how long's she been here?"

"She mostly stays during the day. Your dad makes her go home at night, and I stay with you."

Sheila sauntered into Marshall's room, a bright smile on her face. "Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence!" she exclaimed.

"He's in a lot of pain," Mary explained.

"Yes, Mrs. Mann told me. Don't worry." She produced a syringe and injected it into Marshall's I.V.

Mary eyed it warily. "Are you sedating him again?"

"No, I'm just giving him something to help him relax." She watched the heart monitor, and when his heart rate returned to an acceptable level, she joined Mary. "I bet you're tired of being on your back. What do you say we get you on your side, so there isn't so much pressure and friction?"

Marshall looked eager and wary. "Okay."

Sheila turned to Mary. "Would you like to give me a hand, or would you rather I call an orderly?"

Mary shook her head immediately and got to her feet. "What do I do?"

"Just take his arm and follow my lead."

Mary nodded, and together they carefully moved Marshall onto his side. But as they moved him, Mary was watching his face, and she knew that something was wrong.

As Sheila adjusted the blankets and placed a pillow behind Marshall's back, Mary focused on Marshall. "Marshall? What is it? Are you okay?"

He had lost the color in his face. Something was very wrong.

"Marshall." Mary leaned over, cupping his cheek in her hand. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

The words he said next made the bottom fall out from under her.

"I can't… Mary, I can't feel my legs."

To Be Continued...

A/N: *hides under rock* Review, please! :D