Disclaimer: Don't own it, just love it!

Author's Note: There was a scary five hours this morning during which the power was out due to storms, but it came back on in time for this to get written! Don't you feel lucky? I know I do!

Also I decided to make up a tiny little bit of background for Marshall's mom, which has not particularly much to do with show canon as of this point. Hope you like. =)

Fish Out of Water

Chapter 5

"Wow. You live here?" Brandi took in the two story house, which to Marshall's eye seemed fairly standard.

"Yeah, my parents bought it when we moved here. It's smaller than the house we lived in before, but my brothers don't live with us anymore."

"Your parents actually own it?" her eyes widened.

"Um, I think they might be making payments on it for a while, unless my dad decides to move again, but yeah," he informed her as he unlocked the front door and ushered her inside.

"Mom always just rents, unless she doesn't," Brandi commented. "Then sometimes, we live in a tent until she can rent again."

Marshall froze, trying to make sense of her statement and failing. "What?"

"Well, Mom says that rent is too expensive sometimes, and it's silly to pay it when we could be camping instead." The twelve year old wrinkled her nose. "I don't really like camping that much though. My clothes get all dirty and my sister has to hide money from Mom to take our stuff to the Laundromat."

"That's, um…" Marshall faltered, his throat choking up slightly. Much as he might have wished otherwise, he had the disturbing feeling that Brandi was telling the truth, and what she'd told him made him feel slightly ill. It was no wonder Mary thought there was nothing good in store for her in life; there apparently never had been.

"Got anything to eat?" Brandi chirped hopefully.

Marshall pointed to the kitchen doorway just down the hall and Brandi scurried off. He let his eyes fall closed and he took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. He needed to compose himself; the poor kid had seen enough today without having to watch him lose it too. He heard the fridge open with a pop and a rattle of condiment bottles, followed by an astonished gasp. He made his way to the kitchen and found Brandi gaping at the contents of the refrigerator.

"How many people live here?" she breathed in wonder.

"Three," he answered, and Brandi's face fell. "But my brothers only moved out a few years ago so my mom still shops like she did when they lived here," he backpedaled quickly.

The girl nodded, apparently accepting his answer. "And you and your brothers are boys, too. Mom says girls don't need as much or else we'll get fat."

"Well," Marshall said slowly, forcing his voice to sound calm even while he was raging at Jinx on the inside, "you can eat whatever you want to when you're here."

"But most of this stuff isn't even cooked…" she hesitated, eyeing the contents of the fridge dubiously.

"You pick it and I'll make it," he offered.

"Really? You can make all this stuff?"

"Just about anything in there, yeah," he assured her. "My mom's a retired home economics teacher and she taught me how to cook."

She cast another glance in the fridge. "No soda?"

"Not usually. My mom didn't like for us to drink it too often."

"Mary says the same thing to me all the time, but Mom says what a person drinks is nobody else's goddamn business," Brandi paused as Marshall let out a frustrated sigh. "But Mary says I shouldn't anyway, so no soda is fine."

Marshall poked through the contents of the fridge, looking for something to make that she might like. He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Ever had stir-fry?"

"What's that?" Brandi asked, her nose wrinkling.

"It's like Chinese take-out, but you make it yourself at home."

"Oh my God, really?" her eyes lit up.

"Yes, really," Marshall replied with a smile. He swiftly grabbed the ingredients from the fridge and let the door fall shut.

Marshall lay awake for the second night in a row, in turmoil over Mary again but for wholly different reasons. He had known her mother had problems and had long harbored suspicions that there was more to her home life than he'd been told, but his imaginings on the subject hadn't even come close to what he'd seen that afternoon or what Brandi had told him afterward. He had known on an intellectual level that there were people who barely subsisted within society, failing to pay rent, going without food, and having unfortunate encounters with the police. It was one thing to be told that people sometimes lived that way, but another thing entirely to actually know someone in that situation and bear witness to it firsthand.

Then there was the matter of Mary's bruises; obviously someone had handled her roughly, though he wasn't completely certain who that person was. Jinx's black eye certainly suggested the boyfriend as an obvious suspect, but Marshall wouldn't put anything past Mary's mother after the display he'd witnessed. The woman would be incredibly lucky if she didn't get charged with assaulting a police officer on top of being drunk and disorderly.

He rubbed his stomach absently, trying to dispel the sick knot of worry which had formed there as he played through the day's events. Mary had said she would call, but she hadn't, and he genuinely believed she would have if she had been able. If it was just him, she very well might withdraw as a result of her own shame, but she wouldn't abandon Brandi without good reason, not in a million years. And there was another thing; his heart ached for his friend's sister, who gamboled through her life along a cliff's edge of how badly off she truly was without ever realizing that she was only one fall away from the truth. He worried for what might become of her once that fall came, and the way things stood, it seemed inevitable.

After dinner, Brandi had been delighted to discover that Marshall's family had cable; some of her friends did too, she'd explained, but of course her own family couldn't pay the bill. Marshall often preferred books over television, but he was exhausted and cable TV proved to be a distraction worthy of Brandi's attention span. As the evening wore on, she had ultimately fallen asleep on the couch, curled up under a throw blanket. Still waiting for Mary's call, Marshall had simply turned the volume down, and eventually he'd dozed off sitting next to her.

He'd woken up to the sound of his mother's key in the lock and had quietly gotten up to meet her at the door. She had been surprised and doubtlessly disconcerted at the unexpected presence of a twelve year old girl in her home, but she hadn't challenged his assertion that a friend had a family emergency and had asked him to babysit. By unspoken agreement, her unasked questions would be addressed in the morning. Brandi was out cold, so Marshall had scooped her up and settled her in the upstairs guest bedroom so he could be close by in case she needed anything.

Since he'd gone to bed, it had started to rain. He'd listened to the sheeting rain on his window and the distant rumble of thunder for about an hour; the rumbles became louder as the lightning drew nearer, boom chasing flash in a meteorological game of tag. Suddenly, there came a flash of lightning that was accompanied by the sharp crack of air displacement almost instantly. The intensity of it made him jump slightly, and as he breathed slowly in an effort to calm his racing heart he noticed that the hall light had gone off and there was no ambient sound in the house; the power had gone out.

In the sudden stillness, he heard something he hadn't before; a small, frightened whimper from down the hall. He got up, padding quickly down the darkened hall to the guest bedroom, the door of which had been left ajar to allow for illumination from the light in the hallway. He pushed the door open further.

"Brandi?" he called softly, not wanting to wake her if she was still sleeping.

"Marshall?" her frightened voice squeaked back. "I'm scared."

"Because of the storm?" he asked as he sat on the edge of the bed. Brandi shook her head.

"I had bad dreams," she quavered, "and when I woke up I was somewhere weird, and then there was lightning and thunder and the lights went off."

"You're in the guest bedroom, and the storm knocked the power out," he said reassuringly. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm scared," she repeated simply. "Please don't leave."

Marshall hesitated at her unexpected request, then nodded. "Okay," he said as he scooted up and sat with his back against the headboard. "I'll be right here."

Brandi grabbed hold of his hand and clung to it. After a while, her grip relaxed and her breathing evened out; she'd finally gone back to sleep. Marshall sat in the dark, ankles crossed on top of the covers, his head leaned back against the wall. He glanced down at Brandi every now and then, confirming she was still sleeping; otherwise, he stared into the darkness of the room, lit occasionally by a flash of lightning from the receding storm, as he tried obsessively to sort out Mary's situation. Neither she nor Brandi could go on like this for much longer without lasting damage being done, if it wasn't already too late… but he had no idea what to do about it.

"So, Marshall," his mother ventured, "who is this friend of yours?"

She eyed him expectantly while she pulled pancake ingredients from the cupboard and the fridge. Marshall leaned backward against the counter, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans.

"Um, just someone from my English class," he answered, trying to sound nonchalant. "Actually she's my partner for that term paper the teacher assigned."

"She? So is this a girlfriend we're talking about?" she probed, arching an eyebrow at him.

"She's a girl who's also a friend," he clarified. "Don't make it sound like more than it is, Mom."

"She's a girl who's a friend, who has you watch her little sister overnight?" she queried skeptically.

"There were extenuating circumstances," he countered. "It was an emergency."

"What kind of emergency? Is everything going to be alright?"

"I hope so," he replied honestly but evasively, hoping his mother wouldn't realize he hadn't answered her first question... but to no avail. She set down the mixing bowl she'd been holding and planted her palms on the counter with a huff.

"That isn't an answer, Marshall. What is this girl involved in that you don't want to tell me? And why haven't your father and I met her yet, if she's such a good friend that she's got you handling her family troubles?"

"Mom…" he began, unsure what he was even going to say. He was spared having to find out, at least for the moment, when Brandi came in.

"Marshall, can I have something to drink?"

He reached for the cupboard and handed her a glass. She went to the fridge and selected a bottle of orange juice.

"Brandi," Marshall's mom asked kindly, "would you like to help me make pancakes?"

"No," she replied innocently, sipping her juice.

Marshall's mother fixed him with a pointed gaze.

"Brandi…" he prompted, his tone gently informing her that she'd just been rude.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, her face scrunching as she fished for the appropriate response. "No, thank you!" she added with a smile of pride at having been what she believed to be polite before trotting back to the living room with her drink, determined to make the most of having access to cable.

Marshall rested his face in his palm as his mother stared after the girl with wide eyes.

"What kind of home does this child come from?" she asked in appalled astonishment.

"I'm guessing the kind where asking someone if they want to help with something is perceived as an actual question rather than a command," he sighed. His mother pursed her lips in disapproval and began mixing the pancake batter.

"Mom…" he started again, wanting to explain, wanting his mom to accept the only friend he had, but he didn't know where to begin. She held up her hand, silencing him.

"Marshall, I'm worried about you. You've never been so… so secretive! I came home last night to find you babysitting a little girl whom I haven't even heard of but who seems to know you very well, and you're telling me you're friends with her sister whom I have never met and you won't explain why, and you claim her family had some sort of emergency but you won't tell me what it was!" She paused, forcing herself to calm down. "I won't tell your father about this, yet, but if you don't start being up front with me and soon, I'll have no choice."

Before Marshall could reply, the phone rang. His mother, hands full of breakfast-making utensils, gestured to the wall phone with a batter-coated spatula. He grabbed it without having to be told twice, hoping it would be Mary, and it was.

"Marshall?" she asked after he picked up.

"Yeah," he said softly, stretching the phone's cord as he inched around the door frame into the hallway, his mother watching from the corner of her eye. "Where have you been? I thought you were going to call last night."

"I'm so sorry, Marshall," she murmured tiredly. "They took my statement but they couldn't get anything out of Jinx until she sobered up, and even then she was… difficult."

So the woman was drunk after all, Marshall thought bitterly.

"Anyway, I didn't get home until almost three in the morning. It was too late to call," Mary continued. "I'm really sorry I left Brandi with you all night."

"It's okay," he murmured quietly, knowing it wasn't quite true but also knowing that Mary didn't need to be burdened by his mother's disapproval.

"Did she at least behave herself?" Mary asked. Marshall thought he could hear her cringing.

"She did, actually," he answered. "So do you want me to bring her by? She was about to have pancakes."

"Um… well, the house is pretty trashed and I want to get it picked up while Jinx is still sleeping," she replied, hesitating.

"Want me to come help?" Marshall offered, grimacing at the knowledge that Mary's mother had somehow been released after all.

"No," she answered quickly. "I was wondering if you could keep Brandi for a few more hours while I finish cleaning up. She's seen it like this a few times before, but if she doesn't have to…"

"That's fine," he answered quietly.

"I'm really sorry," Mary whispered, sounding like she was holding back tears.

"I told you, it's fine," he said more firmly. "I really don't mind."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

With a click, the line went dead. Marshall slipped back into the kitchen and hung up the receiver.

"Well?" his mother prompted.

"I'm meeting her to drop Brandi off later."

"And this 'emergency'?" his mother's voice betrayed her skepticism.

"I guess it all worked out," he shrugged in reply.

Marshall knew it was, in fact, extremely unlikely that anything had been resolved, but he wanted to hear what Mary had to say before he decided anything. He wasn't okay with deceiving his mother, but if he told her outright that Jinx had been taken away by police the day before, there would be rushes to judgment and he could very well lose Mary forever. Somehow, that no longer seemed like a tolerable option.

Mary sat on the park bench, staring blankly at the grass. It was coated in a fine sprinkling of moisture; the previous night's storm had been followed by sporadic showers in the morning. Marshall had called with uncanny timing just as she'd felt the house was set well enough to rights, and she'd arranged to meet him here. It now early afternoon and by the time Mary left the house, Jinx was still asleep as she had been since just after they'd come home in the small hours of the morning. Upon their return, Jinx had announced an end to the whole unpleasant mess and dramatically served herself a sleeping pill with a vodka chaser, passing out in bed shortly thereafter and leaving Mary to deal with the aftermath. Mary was fine with that even though deep down she felt she shouldn't be, but messes were always easier to clean up with her mother out of commission.

Gleeful, childish laughter broke over her musings and Mary looked up to see a familiarly tall figure approaching… though he was slightly hunched over due to her sister riding on his back. Marshall wore Brandi like a backpack, her gangly legs dangling through his arms and her own arms draped over his shoulders and encircling his neck. Completing the image, Brandi was wearing her own cat-emblazoned backpack in an unintentional imitation of herself, and Mary, though preoccupied by less than happy thoughts, couldn't help but laugh.

"Hi, Mary!" Brandi squealed, causing Marshall's grin to turn momentarily into a wince as she was right next to his utterly defenseless ear.

"Hey there, Squish, you're really traveling in style," Mary said, smiling. "Got something to say to Marshall?"

"Thank you, Marshall!" she squealed again, hugging him tightly around the neck.

"Oh God… choking…" he gasped out.

"Oops, sorry," Brandi apologized as she slid from his back to the bench and hopped to the ground.

"Go play for a little bit, okay?" Mary said to her sister. Brandi didn't need to be told twice; she ran for the playground as soon as she'd discarded her backpack on the bench.

"How was she, really?" Mary turned to Marshall.

"She really was well behaved, but she's heavier than she looks," he answered.

"I know, I can barely lift her anymore," she agreed. "You must be stronger than you look, string bean."

"Mary…" Marshall turned to her, looking serious. "How are you, really?"

"As well as can be expected," she sighed. "It could have been worse. Not by much, though."

"What happened?"

"They decided not to hold Jinx after all, let her off with a warning. She was drunk in her own home, for one thing, and there's really no law against that. As for attacking the cops, she was really more loud and annoying than anything, and they didn't seem to think it was worth it to keep dealing with her."

"And that guy? I take it he hit your mom."

Mary grunted bitterly. "Yeah, that's why I called the cops yesterday. That guy's a real piece of work. On the other hand, I've got a wad of his money stashed in my heating vent that'll go a long way when rent is due."

"You stole from him?" Marshall looked at her, eyes widened in surprise.

"No, of course not!" Mary glared at him. "It's money Jinx gave me for various things, that I stashed. But she got it all from him."

"So is he out of the picture now?" he asked, concerned.

"Who fucking knows," she grumbled. "Jinx refused to press charges, and it wasn't hard for the police to believe she fell and blacked her eye while she was drunk."

"What?" Marshall asked disbelievingly. "So he's just free to go?"

"The cops told me they'd hold him as long as the law allows without charging him, give him time to cool off, but yeah, that's it."

"That's unbelievable! How can they let him go, with… you know… that…" He gestured to her arms, now hidden inside a soft, baggy sweater.

Mary crossed her arms defensively, feeling vulnerable. "He didn't do that," she muttered quietly.

"Then who the hell did? Your mom?"

"She was upset that I called the cops. She grabbed me and shook me a few times, that's all."

"'That's all'?" Marshall growled. "You can't live like this, Mary. This can't continue. How do you think this is going to turn out for you? For Brandi?"

"I can't live like this? This is all I've ever lived! This is all there is," she bit out her retort. "And it's all there ever will be," she added quietly.

"That isn't true," he spoke softly, his chest tightening with emotion at seeing her so defeated. "There can be so much more than this."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. College, a career, a life," she sighed.

And me, he thought longingly. Now definitely wasn't the time… the problem was, he wasn't sure there would ever be a time that was right for that. Unable to say what he was feeling, he reached for her and drew her into a gentle hug instead. To his surprise, she hugged him back after a moment. For as long as she'll let me, he resolved silently, I'll be here.

"What can I do?" she whispered shakily. "Anything I could do would get Brandi taken away from me. If I can just hold on long enough… just until I'm old enough…"

Marshall closed his eyes. There it was, the heart of the matter; Mary's sister was all she had, and she would do anything to keep her, even if it meant giving up everything or letting herself be hurt. The difficulty lay in the fact that as surely as Jinx was tearing Mary apart, she would inevitably damage Brandi as well. It was a thorny situation; while there were several obvious solutions, all of them would cause Mary to lose the one thing that held her together.

"No matter what you need," he murmured, "I'm here."

A/N: Oh, Marshall... what are you getting yourself into? Sigh.

Again, so many reviews! Thank you all so much! Please let me know how you liked this chapter, and as always, stick around for the next one! =)