We're one step closer to Pa!Shannon! What will our heroes find? Read on to find out!

Graham Street was on the southeast edge of town, with houses and trailers on one side and open desert on the other. Marshall wondered if that was exactly why James had chosen the street and this town. The Mexican border was not far off and this far from the city center the man would have a decent head start on law enforcement if he decided to make a break for it.

Mary grew increasingly uncomfortable as they got closer to the address. This was the kind of neighborhood that she'd been shot in and she didn't want anything to happen to Marshall. She kept one hand on her holster as Marshall continued driving.

212 Graham Street was a one-story house built in the late sixties. The wood paneling looks as if it hadn't been painted in at least a decade. The white paint was grayed and peeling to reveal a once-sunny yellow underneath. There was a brown Ford truck in the drive. Marshall drove right past it, finally parking three blocks away on McLymont Street.

He turned to Mary and waited. He could see her eyes searching the area in habit.

Mary stared blankly ahead. She fought to control her breathing as she stared at his house. This was the moment she'd dreamed about; though it was under different circumstances. Her hand absently reached over the gearshift to hold his hand and she calmed a little as she felt his thumb rubbing light circles on her knuckles.

"I don't know if I can do this, Marshall," her breathing sped up as she realized what she was expected to do.

Marshall weighed his words carefully before speaking. He knew this had to be her decision, but he also knew that what Mary needed was closure. And the only way she was going to get that was to confront her fear head on and see him one more time. "Eleanor Roosevelt said you should do one thing a day that scares you," he said softly, keeping his grip on her hand.

Mary's gaze steeled over as she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. She began walking in the direction of James' house.

"That's my brave girl," Marshall said while following her down the dusty road. He resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her. She needed her strength for herself right now.

She continued walking until she was one block away. She ducked behind a fence as she saw him step out of his house. "Daddy," she whispered. Her legs refused to move; despite her desire to run to him.

Marshall stood close enough she could lean on him if she needed the support and watched the man who had caused her so much pain and heart ache. Marshall was not a violent man, but the sight of James Shannon brought a rush of emotion and he had a strong desire to tackle the older man to the ground and beat him to a pulp.

James stood in his front yard smoking a cigarette. He looked around the neighborhood as he put the trash bag he was holding into the can that sat next to his mailbox. He reached into his pocket, put a letter inside the box, and finished his cigarette.

Mary's legs finally registered her brain telling her to move. James had moved to get into his car as she stepped out from behind the fence. She saw him glance in her direction just as he started the engine. His face was the last thing she saw before darkness engulfed her.

The explosion blew the Ford to pieces before Marshall had a chance to react. The force of the blast knocked both marshals off their feet and sent shards of white hot metal rocketing through the air in all directions. Out of pure instinct, Marshall threw his body over Mary's seconds before the driver side door smashed through the fence that had concealed them, landing an inch from Marshall's head.

"Mare?" Marshall ignored a burning pain in his left thigh, worried only for Mary. "Mare, wake up!"

There was a gash across her forehead and the blood oozing from it dribbled down her face. She was breathing, but her eyes remained closed. He didn't dare move her.

Heart in his throat, Marshall flipped open his phone and dialed 911.

Val Verde Regional Medical Center's emergency room was mercifully quiet when the ambulances pulled up to the automatic double doors. The paramedics wheeled Mary out of the first ambulance and straight into a curtained area of the emergency room. Marshall was in the back of the second ambulance, forced to lie on a stretcher, despite his protests that he was fine.

A nurse in sea foam green scrubs pointed to the back corner of the room. "Bed six is ready for him," she said in a no nonsense voice.

"Where is my partner?" Marshall asked her, his voice tinged with panic.

"Bed two, the doctor is on his way," she said in a softer tone, "now you need to relax and let us do our jobs, ok?"

Only the restraints the paramedics had strapped across his chest and legs to keep him down in the ambulance kept Marshall from leaping up and strangling the nurse.

Upon noticing the ferocity in his gaze, the woman uncapped a syringe and injected it into the flesh of his shoulder. In seconds, the world faded and Marshall slept.

Mary was surrounded by fog. There was nothing around her; no sound, nothing she could touch, and all she could see was the fog. It was dimly lit and she couldn't feel a surface beneath her feet. She took a few shaky steps forward and she was plunged into a blinding light. She closed her eyes to the harsh onslaught to her pupils and felt herself falling.

Suddenly it stopped and she was able to look down below her feet. Marshall was strapped to a gurney and he had panic in his eyes.

"I'm right here!" she called out and smiled as he looked around confusedly for a moment before continuing his interrogation on the nurse attending to him. Taking a few steps closer to him, she saw there was blood matted to his hands and clothing.

A jolt of electricity surged through her and her body was hurled backwards through the light and back into the fog. Another shock to her brought her out of the fog and into pitch darkness. She heard the steady beeping of the heart monitor and felt the pricks of an IV being pushed into her arm.

She remained in darkness for an indeterminable amount of time before she opened her eyes.

"What happened?" she tried to speak but the tube down her throat made it difficult. She tried again, "Marshall..." was all she managed before she fell into unconsciousness once more.

Consciousness came with pain. Marshall groaned. There was so much pain. His left leg was on fire, as if someone was cauterizing his femur without anesthesia. He tried to jerk away from the pain, but strong leather straps held him in place. There was a blindingly white light above his head and it made his eyes water.

"How are we feeling?" a sweet female voice asked from somewhere on his left.

"Mary?" he tried to turn.

"Your partner hit a rough patch, but she's going to be just fine." The nurse placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Where is she?" Once again, Marshall fought against the restraints. "I need to see her."

"What you need is rest," the nurse replied, not unkindly, "you lost quite a bit of blood."

When he did not calm, the nurse relented. "How about we make a deal? You agree to stay in that bed and rest, and I'll see that you and that partner of yours are in the same room by the end of the hour. Deal?"

It wasn't what Marshall wanted, but it was better than nothing. He nodded. "Deal."

Seconds later, the morphine drip the nurse had hung while she spoke kicked in and he slipped back into warm, painless sleep.

Oh no! They found him but not in time! How will Mary react? How will Marshall get her through this? When will they get a moment to themselves? All this and more in later chapters!