A/N: Just a reminder that M&M's son is named William - but he thinks of himself as Liam (and his friends call him that too). Enjoy this next chapter - and I promise, we'll get back to Seth's letter soon!

Strong T warning for suggestive language in the flashback scene.

Going back to sleep was out of the question now.

Marshall hadn't held his wife in his arms in over eighteen years – how could it still feel so right? Her head still fit perfectly under his chin and her breath was tickling the fine hairs of his chest through the thin T-shirt he was wearing. When he had awoken a few minutes ago to her muffled sobs, he had tried to get up, but his back had protested. Sleeping in a collapsible cot that was more of a hammock with legs had done a number on his muscles and he was momentarily paralyzed. He had been surprised that she had come to him so easily, with only a quick protest that he had thrown back – and the next thing he knew, she was falling into him.

Mary sighed in her sleep, her arm tightening around his waist, her lips brushing across his T-shirt. He looked down as he smoothed her hair back, his throat working as he noticed that her face was still wet from her tears. This had been a very common occurrence at the end – Mary had often cried herself to sleep in his arms during her pregnancy and after they had brought Will home from the hospital. Nothing he had said or done seemed to make any difference – in fact, Mary would often push him away, swearing that if he ever touched her again she would cut off his manhood. So Marshall would give up and go to bed only to wake up a few hours later to find her sobbing in his arms, telling him she didn't mean it and begging for him to hold her.

Marshall cupped her cheek and she snuggled into his touch. How can we still be so in sync when we've been apart for so long? This feels so right, holding you in my arms, being comforted as we wait for word on Will. But it's not real – is it? There is no us, not anymore. Not like there used to be.

June 1995

Thunder boomed overhead and awoke Marshall from the post coital slumber he had fallen into. His hand reached out and searched the space next to him and finding it empty, his eyes opened the rest of the way, searching the darkened motel room.

"Mary?" he whispered, as lightning flashed and illuminated the space, and his gaze fell on his bride standing by the window staring out at the storm, clad in his white dress shirt. He slipped from the bed, stopping only to pull on his discarded boxers before he crossed to her side. "What is it? Is something wrong?" he whispered in her ear as he pulled her back into him.

Mary stiffened before letting herself melt into his embrace, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Marshall."

He sighed. "Don't push me away, Mer."

"I'm not-"

"Then tell me what's bugging you."

"Nothing-"

He whipped her around to face him. "Bull shit," he said softly, lifting a hand to wipe away a tear. "You're crying on our wedding night – so something's wrong." A look of horror crossed his face. "God, Mary – did I hurt you? Or did I do something wrong? I've never done it before and-"

"Hush." She lifted a hand and placed it over his mouth. "You didn't hurt me and you didn't do anything wrong."

He kissed her hand before removing it. "Then what-?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure if I can explain it – you're better with words than I am."

"Try."

"Well, you know I've had sex before – not as much as some people think but- I know where everything goes and I do enjoy-"

"Mary, if you're trying to tell me about your previous sexual experiences, I'd really rather not hear about them. I mean, I may seem easy going, but thinking of you with other guys – letting them –"

She shook her head as she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him, long and deep and slow. "No, that's not what I'm trying to say."

Marshall blinked. "Hmm? What were we talking about? You kiss me like that and I can't even remember my own name."

She laughed. "You're such a Doofus."

He cupped her cheek. "What are you trying to say?"

"Well, the sex with the other guys was nice – but with you it was different – it was- well -" she blundered to a stop, biting her lip and dropping her eyes.

"Oh God," Marshall swallowed as he released her cheek and backed up. "I did do something wrong – I let you down. I'm so sorry, Mary. It was my first time and here you were expecting fireworks and confetti and bells and whistles and you probably didn't even orgasm, did you?" he began to pace. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. Next time will be all about you and-"he broke off when he heard Mary's laughter. "What the hell is so funny?"

"You – do you have any idea how adorable you are when you start freaking out and get all babbly and –" she broke off, sobering at the expression on his face.

"Babbly? You make me sound like a brook!" He crossed his arms over his bare chest.

She sighed. "I know I'm not explaining this very well – but it would help if you wouldn't interrupt me, OK?"

He nodded.

"Different doesn't always mean 'bad', Marshall – or that you let me down. I felt something with you tonight that I've never felt before with anyone else and it scared the crap out of me." Mary was shaking and Marshall began to close the distance between them. "Something that went beyond sex –"

He cupped her face in his hands. "That's because we made love, Mer. You and I connected on the most intimate level possible and for the first time you let me all the way in." He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Mary Shannon Mann."

She knocked his hands away as she threw herself into his arms. "I still can't believe we got married! Your father is going to kill us."

He chuckled in her ear. "Can we worry about that tomorrow? This is our honeymoon – I don't want anyone or anything to ruin that."

She pulled back to look in his eyes. "Do you have any ideas how to do that now that we're both awake?"

His fingers reached out and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. "Do you think we can both fit in the bathtub?"

"Never know until we try," she winked and ran, leaving him holding nothing but the shirt.

Marshall blinked the memory away. They had been so young – it was amazing to think that their son was now the same age they were when they got married. And now instead of enjoying his last summer before college at home with Juliet and the rest of his family, Will was in ICU recovering from a gunshot wound. Life really wasn't fair.

Marshall, I love you.

Had she been dreaming when she'd spoken those words? Did it matter? She'd never said them to him all those years ago, awake or asleep, so why did she say them now? Did she mean it? Or was she just offering them up as a form of friendship – as a way of getting them through this crisis? Marshall shook his head. That wasn't who Mary was. She didn't say anything she didn't mean. Perhaps that's why she'd never said the words to him in the first place, because even though she'd cared for him deeply, she'd never loved him; he'd made her feel safe, secure, and loved and she hadn't wanted to lose that. She hadn't wanted to lose her best friend – her only friend. That's why they'd gotten married in the first place and then she'd gotten pregnant with Will and that's why she'd stayed with him. Who knows what would have happened if she'd never gotten pregnant. Perhaps they would have gotten divorced much sooner.

With all these thoughts swirling around in his brain, Marshall drifted into a restless sleep, still holding his estranged wife.

"Come in."

"Mom, Dad wanted me to tell you that everyone's here, so whenever you're-" Liam paused when he saw his Mom for the first time.

"What? What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "You look beautiful."

Mary blushed as she crossed the room to squeeze his hand. "Do you think your Dad will like it? I mean, it's not a wedding dress but I wanted to dress up a little for him – and Brandi and I found this downtown."

"Dad will love it – he loves you in yellow."

Mary smiled. "I know – I was wearing yellow on our first wedding day."

Liam started. "You remember?"

Mary looked in the mirror to brush back some of her hair. "How could a girl forget what she was wearing on her wedding day?"

He frowned. Something was wrong here but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Are you ready?"

"I need another five minutes or so – Brandi has disappeared on me and she's coming back to finish my hair."

"It looks fine to me-"

Mary laughed as she reached out and cupped his cheek. "Oh, you men think our hair looks fine if all we do is run a comb through it!"

"Mom, are you OK?"

"I'm fine – now scoot. Go tell your Dad we'll be ready in a few minutes and then I'll text you when I need you to come back here for our walk down the aisle, all right?"

"OK." Liam leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Mom."

"Love you too," she sniffled and pushed him away. "Now scoot before you ruin my makeup."

"You're wearing makeup!"

"Shh! It's a secret – and only for today," Mary sighed as she pushed him out the door.

Liam found himself in the backyard but none of the guests had seen his father – not since he had left in the company of an unknown young woman.

"What woman?"

But no one knew who she was – she had evidently crashed the ceremony for some purpose known only to her. The panic was growing inside of Liam with every passing minute and he decided to go back and check on his mom. Suddenly there was his dad standing in front of his mom, shielding her from a strange young woman holding a gun.

"I don't want to hurt anyone – I just want the Lady Marshal."

His Dad's hands were spread out in a pleading gesture. "Put down the gun, Jessie- and we'll talk."

Jessie shook her head. "My business is with her alone."

"She's my wife – so your business is with me as well."

Liam felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look into the eyes of his Uncle Stan. "Do something! Before-"

"MARY!"

Brandi's scream split the air and Jessie's finger twitched on the trigger. The gun went off and Marshall fell to the floor, bleeding from the chest.

"NO!" Mary and Liam screamed together. Mary cradled Marshall in her arms as Liam ran and fell at his Dad's feet.

"Dad, Dad, please! Don't leave us – not now! We're finally a family again – please!"

Marshall's eyes fluttered open and focused on him. "Will-"

"Dad-" Liam grasped his hand tightly.

"Take care – of - your mom-"

"No! Dad, that's your job! Don't leave us!"

"Mary-"

She caressed his cheek. "Yes, my love?"

"Take care – of him-"

"I promise." She vowed. "I love you-" she choked.

"Dad, no!"

"Will – love you-"

Liam's eyes flew open, his heart pounding in his chest, his eyes frantically searching the unfamiliar room.

Dad, where's Dad?

He tried to form the words but something was blocking them and he lifted his hands only to feel the mask and tube from the ventilator. Clawing at them in frustration, he managed to work one side of the mask free, setting off an alarm that brought a nurse running into the room.

"Mr. Mann, I need you to calm down, please! Don't pull on that – it's there as a precaution to help you breathe."

The words barely registered as Liam continued to struggle. Dad's not dead – he's not!

Using her upper body to keep her patient in the bed, the nurse leaned over and pressed the intercom button. "I need some help in room 214 – and send someone for Mr. Mann's family."

Marshall had woken twenty minutes ago with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Since becoming a father, he had never slept soundly. The slightest sound from Will's room or from the street outside would have him sitting up in bed, reaching for the gun he always kept under his pillow. Usually the uneasiness passed after checking on Will and making sure his son was sleeping peacefully. Sometimes he was and sometimes he wasn't – having been awakened from a nightmare and trying to be brave, Will often stayed in his room alone to try and fall back asleep. Marshall would sit on the floor and tell him stories until Will would drift back to sleep and he would sit and watch his son for awhile before tiptoeing back to his own room.

Since his son was in ICU, checking on him wasn't possible – but his fatherly intuition was in overdrive and he knew that Will would be waking up soon. Marshall needed to get moving. He glanced down to see that Mary was still asleep and he hoped that she still slept soundly. Taking a deep breath, he rolled to his stomach, taking her with him, so she was on her back and he was on top. He briefly straddled her hips to keep his weight off her, and recited the periodic table of elements in his head to keep from thinking about how good this position felt.

"Hmm, Marshall," she sighed in her sleep, moving slightly under him.

God, she's trying to kill me. Her tank top had ridden up while she slept and was now resting under her breasts, showing off her tanned and tight abdomen. Marshall was fighting his libido's urge to lean down and place a kiss right above-

"Mr. Mann?"

Marshall yelped and rolled to the side – right off the cot. He felt his back pop as he landed on the hard surface and he groaned, wondering if he'd be able to get up anytime soon. The commotion had awoken Mary, who was sitting up on the cot, rubbing her eyes.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's your son-"

Marshall bit the inside of his cheek to hold in a moan as he climbed to his feet. "Is he awake?"

The nurse nodded. "Yes, and he's extremely agitated – he's trying to rip out his breathing tube and we can't seem to get him to calm down. We thought maybe you-"

Mary swung her legs over the side and frowned at her cast. "You go on – I'll catch up."

Marshall growled. "Screw that-" he bent and scooped her into his arms bridal style. "Lead on."

The nurse set a fast pace that Marshall's long legs easily kept up with and Mary was glad she wasn't on foot. She wound her arms around his neck and held on tight.

When they got to Will's room, they could hear the commotion going on inside and Marshall set her down in the hall as she shooed him inside. Marshall paused to give her an indescribable look before running inside.

"William, I understand you want the tube out, but I need you calm down first. I can't remove it with you in this agitated state."

Marshall barely acknowledged the presence of two orderlies holding his son down or the doctor trying to soothe him as he strode into the room and went straight to his son.

"Will."

Liam was still struggling so hard that he didn't hear his father's voice so Marshall took his son's face in his hands and directed his gaze to his own face. "William Marshall Mann – look at me."

Marshall watched as his son's eyes widened in shock and then the tears overflowed, falling so fast his thumbs couldn't wipe them all away. "Shh, my boy. I'm here, I'm here."

Liam made a choking sound in his throat and Marshall sat beside him on the bed so he could cradle his son in his arms. "As soon as you calm down, the doctor can take the tube out, all right?" He felt Will nod against his chest and Marshall sighed. He knew what had happened. Having been shot himself he knew the nightmares that plagued one's sleep afterward.

It took a few minutes for the emotional storm to pass but when he felt Will go limp in his arms, Marshall looked up and nodded at the doctor. He held his son down as the doctor pulled the tube out, trying not to wince as Will gagged.

"Dad," Liam rasped. "You OK?"

Marshall smiled. "I'm fine – you're the one that got shot, remember?"

Liam frowned before shaking his head. "Things – fuzzy," he choked out.

"I know," he nodded. "Don't worry, it will come back – probably more clearly than you want it to."

"Am I OK?"

Marshall squeezed his son's hand. "You're going to be just fine – and you'll have a cool scar that will impress all the girls."

"Like – yours?"

"I don't know about that. And I don't want you to ever get as many scars as I have-"

"Amen to that."

Liam's eyes swung to the doorway and noticed Mary for the first time. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I came with your dad-"

He coughed. "Great – so you saw – my freak out-"

"Hey," she protested as she limped into the room. "Cut yourself some slack, Kid. You've been held hostage and shot –"

"But you and Dad-"

"Are trained for it – you are a normal eighteen year old boy, who should only be worrying about packing up for college in the fall. So under the circumstances, I think you're allowed a little freak out, OK?"

Liam smiled. "OK." His eyes slipped shut and his breathing evened out.

Marshall bumped her shoulder with his. "Good job, Mom."

Mary frowned. "What? What did I do?"

"You calmed his fears – and now he's sleeping peacefully."

"But I didn't do anything-"

He stood and placed a finger across her lips. "You helped him see that what he experienced wasn't normal for HIM, and therefore it was OK to fall apart."

She sighed. "And that was helping?"

He nodded down at their sleeping son. "Look – he's sleeping and smiling, isn't he?"

She nodded slowly, biting her lower lip. "Is this what it feels like?"

"What?" he whispered.

"Being a parent?"

He nodded, the lump of emotion in his throat preventing him from speaking.

"I want more time – how do I rewind the clock so that he doesn't go away to college in the fall?"

Marshall chuckled. "Rosa and I have been trying to figure that out for months. If you find the answer, let us know."

Mary leaned down and brushed her lips across Will's forehead. "I'm not leaving him again, Marshall."

"What are you saying, Mary? Are you going to follow him to Harvard? I don't think he'll like having his mother for a roommate."

"That's not what I'm saying. But it will be too hard on him if I'm here in Florida and you're in Albuquerque – he'll have to divide his time between us and I don't want that, do you?"

"No, but what other alternative is there?"

"I could move to Albuquerque."

A/N: Whoa - even I didn't see that coming! Reviews are LOVE.