Here is the long-awaited part two of When in Doubt! We hope you like it!

-GPP

Scene 2

Mary unlocked the front door with fingers that still trembled. Marshall's hand on the small of her back kept her upright. She knew what she needed to do. She just couldn't do it with him watching. It was too easy to fall to pieces with his sweet kisses to glue her back together.

"Wait here?" She asked; lifting her pain filled eyes to his face.

Marshall nodded. His eyes held the promise of forever and for a moment Mary let herself sink into his gaze before drawing a deep breath and walking away.

She went straight to her bedroom, but did not immediately open the closet and pull out the letters. Instead, she stood just inside the doorway and simply focused on breathing in and out and on not falling apart. She couldn't believe it had come to this.

There was a small possibility that these letters could help find her father. It was a terrifying and exhilarating thought all at once. The thought of seeing James Shannon after so many years was enough to set butterflies to fluttering in her stomach. Would he still be her Daddy after so many years? Would he even know her if he saw her? Would she know him? And then, there was the question she was almost too afraid to ask; did he miss her at all?

Somehow, despite everything, she believed he did miss her. The letters were her proof. Slowly, reverently, Mary moved to the closet where the old striped cookie tin full of paper hid and pulled it out of hiding. It felt surprisingly light in her hands. It contained so much of her heart and soul, so many regrets and broken hopes, it should have been impossible to carry on her own.

Marshall's eyes followed Mary into her room until she closed the door. He heard her rustling about as he made his way to the couch.

He wondered why Mary hadn't told him about the letters. Marshall supposed that it was because she thought that he'd make her turn them over to the FBI. The stab of pain that came with that thought vanished when he realized that she probably hadn't even told Jinx or Brandi about them until recently.

Marshall still felt a lot of residual hatred towards Mary's father. James Shannon had caused his daughter more pain than anyone, especially a child, should ever have to bear. He wondered what she had been like as a child before her father's disappearance. What did she aspire to be? What hobbies did she have? Was she a good student? Did she have a lot of friends?

A tear rolled down Marshall's cheek as he began to realize exactly how much of her childhood had been stripped from her. He selfishly wondered where Mary would be in life if her father had been present. More than likely, James Shannon was in the program. The irony was not lost on Marshall as he pictured young Mary and Brandi entering the Witness Protection Program with him. Where would she have ended up?

Marshall had always thought that her career choice in law enforcement (more specifically the Fugitive Task Force), was a subconscious attempt to find her long lost flesh and blood. Had James been around, Mary might have chosen a different career path; one that didn't involve Marshall.

Marshall was startled from his thoughts when Mary's bedroom door opened. He looked up and his heart broke as he took in the sight of her.

She leaned heavily on the door frame while clutching a box to her chest as if her very life depended on it. Her eyes were bloodshot, puffy, and sunken into the pale skin of her face. Her shoulders sagged and she looked like she was barely able to carry her own weight. His Mary, who normally stood strong and proud against the world was reduced to this beaten, broken, shell of a woman.

"They're not in any kind of order," Mary said, extending the box out for him to take.

Marshall extended his long fingers into the pile of letters; hesitating before making contact. His eyes met hers as he silently asked permission to read one.

Mary nodded; sucking in a noisy, bracing breath through her nose.

He picked one that seemed more worn than the others. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he opened the envelope and took a shaky breath of his own.

Mary's eyes stayed glued to his face. She knew this letter by heart.

Marshall's eyes danced across the letter; taking it all in. The letter was written hurriedly with the occasional misspelling and, if Marshall had any doubts of his theory about what happened to James Shannon, they were gone with this letter. It was obviously the first one. His heart clenched for Mary at his goodbye: "A million kisses, the sun and the moon,"

Mary could tell when he'd reached the farewell his eyes softened and her throat closed with tears.
Marshall finished reading and gently put the letter back into the envelope before reaching over to embrace her. Wrapping his arms around her shaking frame, he whispered soothing nothings in her ear and ran his fingers through her hair.

Oh Daddy, why? Why couldn't I come with you? The age-old question floated free from the box in her mind she'd shoved it into years ago. She leaned into Marshall's chest. His shirt was already damp with her tears; she didn't think he even noticed the new ones.

Marshall moved to sit on the floor and leaned against the couch. He pulled Mary into his lap so he could hold her while he read.

Mary's tears ran dry after a few minutes. She was exhausted. She let her head relax against his chest and her eyes fall shut. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, lulled by the steady thrum of Marshall's heart, the front door opened.

Jinx entered the living room as if she owned the house, not bothering to call out a greeting or even wait to make sure she wasn't intruding. She flounced through the living room, so busy looking for the box she remembered leaving behind that she almost tripped over the marshals on the floor.
Mary's entire body tensed. Shoulders hunching up to her ears as if to shield her from her mother's unwelcome presence.

Jinx finally saw them, and the letters strewn about in front of them "Mary!" she gasped, "What do you think you're doing? You can't show those to him," she pointed an accusing finger at Marshall.

Mary forced her exhausted limbs to move. Slowly, deliberately she rose to her full height and came to stand inches form Jinx. Only then did she speak. "Marshall Mann is the only person I trust in the entire world. He is the only person who would never betray me. Now get out of my house before he throws you out."

Jinx's mouth fell open, "When have I ever betrayed you?"

"Oh please!" Anger gave Mary energy and she spun away from her mother to pace the room.
Marshall who had risen to his feet the instant he felt Mary tense, chose this moment to interject, "The moment you opened your legs to Mike Faber and told him about these!" he gestured to the letters littering the floor.

Jinx opened her mouth to protest her innocence. "Mary – I... I would never."

"What the fuck did you think you were doing when you told Mike Faber about my letters?" Mary demanded.

Jinx didn't know which accusation to respond to first, so she responded to neither. Her lower lip began to quiver, a sure sign of an impending temper tantrum. "Mike Faber is a wonderful man," she said, tears quivering along her lash line, "what I do with him is my business. If you loved me like a daughter should you would be happy for me!"

Mary went still for a moment, her back to her mother, her shoulders tight. Years of working alongside her helped Marshall see the movement coming half a second before it happened. Mary's body tensed and then she whirled around and flung herself, claws out towards her mother.

Marshall was between them in an instant. Mary collided with his chest, so blinded by anger she laid several blows on him before she realized whose arms held her still. With gentle hands on her shoulders, Marshall pushed Mary back from his chest, "pick up the letters and go into your room, I'll be in, in a minute."

The fight drained out of her, Mary did exactly what she was told. She stooped down and gathered the letters, never once looking at Jinx.

He stood tall and strong as he watched Mary retreat into her room to wait for him. Keeping his back to Jinx, he turned his head slowly to her. "You need to leave," his voice dripped with venom and his features cloudy with anger.

Jinx stammered but he simply cut her off, "If I even hear so much as a hint of you speaking to Mary or anyone else for that matter, regarding these letters, I will personally see to it that you will never read them again."

The tears that had been hovering in Jinx's eyes spilled down her cheeks. "Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?' she sputtered angrily.

Marshall turned so he was fully facing the woman in front of him. "Often times I've wondered how a sweet and wonderful woman like Mary came from the likes of someone like you. You're a selfish, drunken leech, and I won't have you attaching yourself to Mary anymore." Marshall towered over her; his expression dark and unfeeling, "You will leave this house now before I make some calls and some friends of mine have to remove you themselves."

Jinx straightened to her full height and glared up at Marshall hatefully. "You think she loves you?" she asked, a note of scorn in her voice, "This, right here, what you're doing to me? This is what she does to the people that she 'loves'." With that, Jinx swept out of the house.

Marshall didn't allow himself to relax until he heard her tires screech out of the driveway. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned to join Mary in her room.

She was curled up on her bed, in the fetal position, the box of letters clutched to her chest, fast asleep.

Marshall's heart broke for her yet again, as he got in bed beside her and pulled a blanket over them. Even in sleep, Mary sank back into him, the grip on the box of letters loosening. He rested his hand on her abdomen and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

"I love you," he whispered into her neck as he let sleep overtake him.