"Yeah, I can hear you fine, just give me a second." Mallet stood up and quietly moved towards the threshold that led into the kitchen. His eyes glanced back at her still sleeping form as he expertly avoided the lone squeaking floorboard and entered the other room.

"Sorry," he breathed, his tone more normal now. "I wasn't expecting you to call today." His throat tightened a bit as he said the words. "Is everything alright … with Henry?"

"Henry's fine," Marina said, softly. She looked over at the little boy who played happily with the assortment of trucks in front of him. Each time she had picked up the phone, she'd come up with some reason not to do it, but today she realized the little boy she loved more than her own life was more important than any of the other excuses she could create. "It's not about Henry." Her eyes fell on the framed photo that sat on the corner table. It was a picture of Shayne holding Henry. His face bore a smile that his eyes betrayed. There was a sadness in his stare that had never left and every day she saw less and less of a fight to hide it.

"It's about Shayne," she finally admitted.

Mallet stilled, realizing for the first time that he'd been pacing across the floor, a habit he'd no doubt developed from years of interrogating criminals in small spaces. "Shayne?" It wasn't as if the name was one that was ever far from his thoughts. In truth, he thought of him every day. Every time he looked at the woman he felt blessed to share his life with, he couldn't help but think about the man that must be missing her. He knew what that was like. Loving Dinah wasn't something you never got over. Even if you told yourself you would, or could, or had, you never really did.

"Yeah."

Her voice startled him from his thoughts. "What … uh, what's going on?"

"Look." She turned towards the window and looked out over the front yard as if somehow he might appear. He might show up a completely different man and make this entire conversation a moot point, but in her heart, she knew he wouldn't. He couldn't. It was out of his control and that was the most terrifying part of all. "I know this isn't your problem," she sighed, "but I didn't know who else to call and I guess maybe I thought …" She paused, not sure how to continue without accusing or implicating him. Part of her knew without a doubt that he'd helped Dinah leave town. The other part knew just as well that he was probably with her now. Mallet and Dinah had a way of finding each other, a way of connecting that she'd both resented and almost respected. It would have shocked her had he not been able to find her. Mallet wouldn't have rested until he'd located Dinah and ensured she was okay.

"I thought maybe you might know …" She stopped, hoping he'd continue on without her having to be explicit. He stayed silent and she wrung her hands together as she stumbled through the words in her head. "She was the only one that could get through to him before," she finally stammered. "I'm afraid if something doesn't soon then …"

"You never really said what's going on?" He could hear the desperation in her voice. Marina prided herself on independence. She hated asking for help and loathed truly needing it even more. It had occurred to him on more than one occasion that the two women had real similarities between them. They both prided themselves on their self sufficiency. They would both walk through fire for the people they loved. But that's where things stopped. Marina had been almost smothered with love as a child. Her entire family had surrounded her and kept her close. She'd never known a life without support. Dinah hadn't had that. She'd been placed in a home devoid of true love, with people that kept her fed and clothed but that did little to care for her emotionally. Until she was a teenager, she never even met her biological parents. Even as strong as she was, those wounds still festered. Those scars would always remain.

And now, as he listened to the slight waver in his ex-wife's voice, he recognized the feeling that welled up within him. It was one he felt often - the overwhelming need to protect the woman he'd failed so many times, the one he'd swore to keep safe on so many occasions and had not always succeeded, the one he'd found in Germany almost as if she were an answer to prayer, the one he absolutely would not fail again.

"Mallet, are you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just …" He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on her words. "What were you saying?"

"I was telling you about Shayne and that I'm really worried he's going to do something that he can't undo. It's bad, Mallet. It's really bad. You know how he can get. You remember how he was when Dinah brought him back here from Europe. You remember how he acted at …" She felt a catch in her throat as she thought back to her first moment seeing him. "At our wedding," she finally finished. "He was so hurt and so angry and all of those emotions were just bottled up inside him and I wasn't sure how things were going to turn out because he didn't seem anything like the guy I knew all those years ago, but then …"

"He was happy with her."

"He was," Marina agreed. "She reached him in a way I can't, in a way his parents can't, in a way the police can't, the court ordered anger management therapists can't, the doctors and nurses at the hospital can't." She shook her head as she glanced back over her shoulder to ensure Henry was still safely occupied. "Even Henry," she whispered. "He comes to see him, but even when he's here it's like he's not. It's like he's going through the motions, but he's not here. Mallet, I …"

His eyes closed as he heard her try to stifle a sob. "I'm afraid that's something's going to happen to him. He drinks all the time. I've lost count of the amount of times I've had to come and pick him up from the station. They normally don't book him because they know me and they know Dad and they know the situation, but then a couple of weeks ago, he nearly wrapped his car around a tree. He was in the hospital for three days. They told him how lucky he was. I was there, Mallet. I listened to every word that doctor said and he could not have been more clear with him. I wanted to bring him back here, to the house, to recover but he wouldn't go. He said he'd rather go back to the hotel and I didn't want to fight. He called a car and had the guy take him to Farley's. Who does that? Who gets out of the hospital and goes to a bar?"

"Someone that's trying to forget something," Mallet answered.

"Not something," Marina countered, "Someone." She swallowed hard before saying the words that she knew would be met with resistance. "Dinah is the only person that has any chance of getting through to him now. He needs her. I know what she did and I know why she did and I know he was angry and hurt and so many other things, but he doesn't know how to live without her and honestly …" She could see Henry's reflection behind her as she struggled to say the words, words she'd thought many times over the last few weeks but never allowed herself to actually say. "I'm not sure he really wants to keep trying to."

"Marina, I get it, but …"

"I know that you're trying to protect her. I get that, Mallet. I know coming back here is a risk and your priority right now is making sure that she doesn't face criminal charges for what she did. The best I can do is talk to my Dad. I can try. I can tell him that she protected his grandson. I'll testify on her behalf. I'll do whatever I can to help her case, but my priority right now is making sure that my son doesn't have to visit his father's grave."

"Marina." He tried again to begin to explain but she was past the point of hearing reason.

She struggled to keep her voice controlled managing a somewhat whispered scream that sounded a bit like hissing and still started Henry enough for him to look up. "It's okay, baby," she said softly. "Play with your trucks."

The mention of Henry made his heart ache. "How is he?"

"He's too little to know he should be worried, Mallet. He's too little to understand that his father is walking on a very thin ledge." She knew she was using Mallet's attachment to Henry and in any other circumstance, the guilt would eat her alive. Today, she would feel even more guilt if she didn't try. "I don't want to have to explain to my son why he doesn't have a father. I don't want to have to tell him that his father drank himself to death or that he drove himself off a bridge or that he jumped off a damn roof especially not when the one person that might have the power to change that is …"

"She can't, Marina. I understand that …"

"No, I don't think you do," she shot back. "I don't think you understand at all because if you did, you would know that this isn't what she would want either. Don't you think she deserves to know what's happening here? Don't you think she would feel horrible to know just how much pain Shayne's in? Don't you think she would do absolutely anything to help him if she only knew?"

"It's not that." Mallet breathed in deeply as he took a few quiet steps towards the doorway and glanced in to the living room. She still lay in exactly the same position. Her legs curled just slightly, her head resting on the throw pillow she'd borrowed from the easy chair., her fingers intertwined into the frayed edges of the throw that covered her. She looked peaceful and relaxed - as if she knew she was safe.

He turned around, moving back into the kitchen not wanting to chance being overheard. "I do know that, Marina. It would kill her to know how much he's hurting right now and if she thought it was because she left …"

"Are you doing this to protect her, Mallet, or are you doing this to keep her with you because I know that you have always …" She chose her words carefully. Marrying Mallet wasn't something she would ever regret and there had been love there, but she couldn't deny that she'd always known a part of his heart had never been hers for the taking.

"It's more complicated than that. It's more complicated than you know. I can't just tell her this now. There's nothing she can do and it will kill her."

"There is something she can do. Weren't you listening to me? I'll do whatever I can to help fix things here. I'm sure Dad can talk to Doris. I'll get him to understand. Once I explain things, he'll understand. He won't say no to me. I know it. The question is, will you?"

Mallet lowered himself onto the booth by the counter. "You don't understand," he said softly. "Dinah can't come back and it's not about the pending charges. She's …"

He stared down at the wedding band on his hand and slowly ran his thumb across it. His mind flashed back to the day he'd brought her here. He'd been absolutely terrified even as he'd tried to be calm and upbeat for her. Finding her on the side of the road with what appeared to be a broken down car had seemed like divine intervention at first. The sight of her was every dream answered and they'd embraced and laughed about karma and kismet and everything in between. He'd then gone to work trying to repair an engine he knew absolutely nothing about while she moved back towards the car. At the time, he'd assumed she was simply retrieving something. Then, he'd realized something was very wrong.

He was on his knees in front of her within seconds as she sat in the driver's seat, her hands gripping her knees as she tried in vain to steady her breathing. The fear in her eyes was something he hadn't seen often and something he'd hoped to never see again. She'd begged him to help her, to get her to a doctor even as she refused to tell him why.

It was only after nearly two hours of waiting in the small exam room that she'd relented and told him the truth. She'd taken a home test a few days after leaving town, but she hadn't yet been able to see a doctor. The idea of being identified terrified her, but the thought of losing this child was an ever more shattering fear.

From that moment on, he'd made her a promise - that somehow, someway, he would make everything okay. She would be safe and he would keep both her and this baby out of harm's way - whatever it took. The wedding ring that had once represented his commitment to another woman would now serve as a symbol of their faux union but very real love. They'd found something simple for her the next day and he'd noticed the shimmer of tears in her eyes as she'd slipped it onto her hand. He knew his ring wasn't the one she wanted to wear.

He'd found a small house for them in a small town where traffic was minimal and nature surrounded them. Bedrest was ordered for the next two weeks and, after two other similar scares, the doctors had all agreed taking it easy for the duration was probably the safest course of action. And now here they were, nearly 4 ½ months into a pregnancy he never could have imagined being a part of - and into a life with a woman he'd never truly stopped loving.

"Mallet!" She completely abandoned the idea of composure as she yelled his name again. "What is going on over there?!"

"Oh." He jumped as he heard her raised voice and realized he'd simply been staring ahead, his mind lost in the memories and moments that had made up his life over the last few months. "I'm sorry, Marina. I …"

"I understand that you're worried about her. I do. But I think you should tell her. I think she has a right to know and if she's okay with letting Shayne deal with this on his own, if she's okay with knowing that everything he's going through right now is a direct result of her …"

"Marina, stop. Dinah can't come back to Springfield. She can't travel and it's not for the reasons you think."

"And what other reasons are there? What could possibly be more important than saving the life of the man she loves?" She closed her eyes as she said the words. "I'm sorry, Mallet. I know you love her and I believe she loves you too, but what the two of them have together, what they created, it was real and I don't think it's going to go away, no matter how much space and time you put between them. It's not going to just …"

"She's pregnant, Marina. Dinah's pregnant - with Shayne's baby."

Silence filled the air as he shifted the phone to the other hand and glanced into the living room to check on a sleeping Dinah one more time. "Marina?"

"Yeah." Her voice suddenly sounded very far away and the venom that had been there just moments ago was now replaced by shock and a hint of resignation. "I'm here. I heard you. It's just not what I was expecting. She didn't … Before she left, she didn't …"

"No. She didn't know. She found out after she left and then …" This wasn't his story to tell and even as the words left his lips, he could imagine the words he'd hear from Dinah when she woke and heard the news. "When I found her here, she was having some problems and now she's on bedrest, so …"

"So that's why she can't come here, not because she wouldn't but because …"

"She can't," he confirmed. "And honestly, I'm not even sure I should …"

"You're not going to tell her?" Marina gripped the side of the table as she looked over towards Henry again. Just moments ago, she'd been imagining the absolute worst thing that could happen, having to explain to her son that he'd lost his father to his own destructive behavior. Now she wondered if she'd have to explain to him that he'd lost his father to another woman and their child.

Mallet felt his heart beating hard inside his chest as he stood now, his view of the woman he loved and the child he'd come to love as his own now unobstructed. He'd just found them again. They had a chance now - a real chance to be happy and he could do that for her. He knew he could. He'd seen glimpses of it in her smile. He'd heard that laugh he remembered so well and it had been him with her in the doctor's office holding her hand as the sound of the baby's quickened heartbeat echoed throughout the room.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I don't know what she could do and this will just eat at her. I don't want her to hurt anymore than she's already been." He waited a moment and listened to the sound of Marina's shaky breaths. "What about you? Are you going to tell Shayne?"

The question hung in the air like an anvil and she ran her hand over her face. Would it give him a reason to hold on or push him over the edge? She didn't know the answer and the unknown terrified her. "I don't know," she echoed.

"Hi," she said quietly as she padded into the kitchen. "You making dinner?"

The sound of her voice automatically brought a smile to his face and he turned around to face her. "Yeah, I figured I'd try to make the noodles a little less crunchy this time."

"I'm sure it'll be perfect," she said softly. "Can I do anything?" Bedrest had been challenging and although she would gladly do anything to keep her baby healthy and safe, she hated feeling so useless. Mallet had already given up everything - his life, his career, and virtually his freedom to care for her and being incapacitated made her feel like an even bigger burden.

"I'm good here. I picked up some pesto from the little shop on the corner and I'm just going to toss a salad unless you've got something else you'd rather have."

"No, that sounds great. I can chop vegetables. That's not too strenuous, right? I can even sit down while I do it." She smiled the smile that made her eyes dance and he found himself powerless to tell her no.

"Alright," he sighed as he placed a knife and cutting board in front of her. "Sit," he said with a sweet smile and gestured to the chair by the small table in the corner of the room. "Let me wash these and I'll bring them over."

He ran the vegetables under the water and tried not to think about the conversation from earlier. What Marina had told him, and more importantly what he had told Marina had the power to change everything. Telling Dinah the truth was almost certainly the right thing to do, but if doing the right thing meant losing her, how could it really be right?

He shook the excess water off the freshly washed produce and slowly crossed the space between them. "Here you go," he said as he placed the washed veg on the table. Slowly he sat down beside her, his hands clasped on the table in front of him.

She paused as she arranged a few tomatoes on the board. "What's the matter?" she asked. She knew his tells, the way he'd absentmindedly massage the back of his neck when it had been a particularly bad day a work, the tightness in his jaw when he was trying to keep his composure, and the way he clasped his hands together when there was something he needed to say but was uncomfortable broaching the subject. "You're doing that thing with your hands."

Mallet looked down and frowned. "Yeah," he breathed, "I guess I am." His eyes met hers when he looked up again and he saw concern and a hint of worry. That was the last thing he wanted. "Hey," he breathed, reaching out and taking one of her hands in his. "It's nothing you need to worry about," he whispered. "Everything's fine."

"Then what?" she repeated, her voice now tense, her entire body on alert.

"I was just thinking about you … about us … about this and I was wondering if …" He bolstered all the courage he had inside. "Are you happy, Dinah?"

She leaned back a bit in the chair, a bit surprised by the pointed question. "Why would you ask me that?"

"I just, I want to make sure that this is what you want, being here with me, I want to make sure that I'm doing what you want because if this isn't something that you feel like is really going to make you happy then …"

"Did I do something or say something that made you feel like I wasn't because if I did then I'm sorry." She felt tears begin to prick at the back of her eyes as emotions began to overwhelm her. It happened all too often lately. "Mallet, I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you for everything you've done. If it weren't for you, I have no idea where I'd be. I don't know if I would have even made it out of town and I certainly don't know if this baby would still be healthy and strong. You gave up everything to keep me, to keep us, safe and you didn't have to do that. You …"

"I wanted to," he assured her. "I feel like I've been given a second chance here with you. I made a lot of mistakes in my life and this feels like a chance to do something good, to do something right, and to do it with you is just … well, it's more than I could have ever even hoped for. But that's not what I asked. I need to know that you're happy and not just happy now, can you be happy here with me or do you think you'll always feel like there's a part of your life that you're missing, that you're wishing you could be a part of."

"You mean Shayne?" Saying his name made her voice shake a bit and she swallowed hard past the knot of emotion that tried to spread through her throat. "If you're asking me if I miss him, I'm not going to lie to you and say I don't. I'm sure you miss Marina too, but it's not like I'm not happy here. It's not like I don't know how blessed I am to be here with you. I mean, if I can't be with …" The look in his eyes as the words slipped past her lips made her heart break and she stopped speaking instantly.

"Mallet," she said quickly, "I didn't mean it to sound like that. That's not what I wanted to say. You're not a second choice. I just meant that …"

"It's okay." He whispered the word before standing and leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Everything's good. We're good. I better check on those noodles."

She watched as he hurriedly walked back over to the range. Her heart sank as she realized the words could never be unsaid.

"Thanks Remy." Marina glanced back towards the living room as Shayne stumbled towards the couch. "Is there anything I need to do?"

Remy shook his head, his eyes full of sympathy for her and a hint of disgust at the waste of a life he was watching. "Nah," he sighed, "I'll handle it. Just maybe try and keep him in the rest of the night. The bartender isn't gonna press charges but if he keeps going down there and causing trouble, eventually he's gonna come across someone that …"

"I know." She leaned back against the countertop and ran her hand over her face. "I just don't …" She bit down on the fleshy inside of her lip, willing herself to stop the tears that begged for release. "I just wish I knew what to say to him to reach him."

"I wish I knew what to tell you." Remy looked over at the man he'd called a friend, the man he'd walked Dinah down the aisle to marry. How could it possibly have gone so wrong? "I tried to talk to him, but he just shuts it down. He won't talk about it - about her."

Marina nodded. "I know. Thanks for trying, Remy and for bringing him home."

"No problem. If you need anything, you know you can call me, right?"

She smiled as she softly closed the door and let the breath leave her body. The smell of coffee filled the air as she started a fresh pot and headed over to the sofa where Shayne had promptly collapsed.

"I'm making you some coffee," she said solemnly. "Henry's going to be awake in a few hours and he doesn't need to see you like this."

A gruff groan was the only response she received.

"I mean it, Shayne. I know you're hurting. I know you're trying to make it all go away and I don't know how to help you through this, but I know this isn't the way. You have a son that needs you and you're not the type of man to just run out on him." She saw his eyes open slightly as his hand raised to his head.

"Does it look like I'm running out to you? I'm pretty sure I couldn't run right now if the cops were chasing me."

"This isn't a joke, Shayne. Don't you see what you're doing to yourself? Do you think this is what she would want for you?"

His entire body stiffened as moved to sit up, his eyes now even with her. "Don't do that," he said, his low voice sounding even more ominous with its husky tone. "Don't bring her into this."

She stood up swiftly, throwing her hands in the air as her patience finally reached its limit. "Oh that's right," she huffed, "I'm not supposed to talk about her even though she's the one that put all of this in motion, even though her leaving town is what has caused you to turn into this …" She gestured to him and let her eyes hold his gaze for a moment. "Tell me this, what exactly are you trying to prove? You think if you mourn long enough that it'll show you really cared? If you completely waste the rest of your life, it'll somehow remind everyone of what they've done to you, to her?"

Every word said was one step closer and closer to her total loss of composure. She could feel her hands begin to tremble as she thought back to the first conversation she'd had with Mallet mere weeks after he'd left. The phone call had been a quick one. He'd called her to check in on Henry and to let her know that he'd keep in touch and it had been then that she'd heard the voice in the background, the one she was certain she recognized. She knew better than to ask if Dinah was with him. He would lie to protect her. He would have done anything for her. It had always been that way. And so she hadn't asked. They had carried on in this state of unspoken awareness for months until now.

"I told you." He said the words as he pushed himself to his feet and ambled into the kitchen. "I don't want to talk about her, not with you, not with anyone."

"You know what I don't want?" She was standing in front of him, blocking his way in an instant. "I don't want to have to tell Henry why his Dad isn't here anymore or why he's in the hospital or why he's in jail. So that means you're gonna have to start talking, Shayne because this isn't working. The drinking, the fighting, the isolation, it's not helping anyone. I know you can come out of it. You came out of it before when you first came back to town."

Sadness flashed in his eyes and he didn't have to say the words for her to know exactly what he was thinking.

"I know she was here then, but she's not here anymore, Shayne. She's gone and sooner or later you've got to …" His eyes locked on hers as she spoke, their expression not of anger but of almost confusion as if their meaning were completely foreign. Her shoulders slumped. "You're never going to let her go, are you?"

"She's my wife, Marina."

"You've got annulment papers. Just because you don't sign them doesn't mean they don't exist."

"Actually that's exactly what it means. That's not a real firm grip you've got on the law there, Marina. To be a cop, you'd think …"

Henry's shrill cry echoed through the room.

Marina sighed as she glanced in the direction of the noise. "I'm going up to check on him," she huffed. "Get a cup of coffee, pull yourself together. I don't want him to see you like this."

He lowered himself into a chair at the table as he listened to the sound of her footsteps fading as she climbed the stairs. The worry on her face and disgust in her voice still stung, proof positive that he wasn't yet drunk enough. Marina's voice, though not loud enough to be heard clearly, had now taken on a different tone, one soft and gentle. Henry was clearly awake now, no doubt waiting to come downstairs and see his father. Shayne stood, forcing his body to cooperate. Marina was right. Henry deserved better than this, better than him. He took a deep, sobering breath before opening the door and heading out into the night.