Waiting for Someone to Push You Away (In Plain Sight fanfic)
(08.12.09 - Reposted from ff.net)
AN: First time I’ve written an "In Plain Sight" fic, and evidently when I write Mary I need her to use quite a bit of profanity…so the So the finale killed me for one reason, and one reason only: Marshall. Every moment he was on screen after Mary'd been shot, it just killed me. His eyes, his body language...we all know that Mary will of course get better, as she's the star of the show, but Marshall...oh Marshall.
Mary/Marshall. Second person. Spoilers for “Don't Cry for Me.” Mary as she’s shot. Hugs to all of you, and please, donate a hug to Marshall. He needs it.
Disclaimer: Don’t own the show or characters or blah blah blah. Title from Vertical Horizons “He’s Everything You Want.”
…Waiting for Someone to Push You Away…
./.
You don’t like to dabble in grays, in possibilities, in all those in-betweens that Marshall could no doubt monologue for hours on end, the sorts of things that make you double and triple check your facts and still leave you uneasy.
You like simplicity, you like knowing where you stand, you like your gun tucked into the back waistband of your jeans and Marshall to your side, backing you up, and a good guy to protect and a bad guy to protect them from.
So WitSec was really a shitty job choice, Mary.
Sure, you get to protect the sweet little family and the unlucky innocents who’ve been dragged in over their heads, but then you also end up protecting the dirt-bags.
But you’re good at the job, Mary. You are the goddamn job.
Home isn’t home, and you’ve known it for a while, now, which is maybe why Raph moving in freaked you out so much, because he’ll expect you to live there, not just visit.
Your office is your home, and Marshall and Stan and hell even Eleanor, they’re all your roommates. And you like it like that. You’re set in your patterns. You don’t like change. You don’t like the boat rocked.
So fricking Raph with his ring and his mother and his guilt-tripping and engagements and you just want to do your job.
You’re engaged.
Is that what you want?
Do your job, Mary. Screw the rest of the world.
Are you happy?
Do the goddamn job.
Francesca is actually kinda funny. She wants to get you drunk a little too much for your liking, but really Mary, when’s the last time you’ve had some fun girl time (Marshall doesn’t count).
Right, you don’t want to talk about Marshall, do you? Because he said “I love you,” and despite the fact that you knew he meant “We’re best friends,” part of you thought “You should’ve kissed me when you had the chance.”
Fucking idiot, Mary. You’re a fucking idiot.
So do the job, Mary. Protect Francesca. It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?
Only goddamn thing you’re good at.
Bobby’s out there, is he the only cop in Albuquerque? and you go outside, because you have to protect her, you have to do your job, you have to not screw up the only thing you’ve ever gotten right in your life.
Mario reaches behind him.
You shout, “Gun!”
The pain is sudden, exploding, but as time slows, as you fall to the ground, as the world swims dizzyingly around you…
Mary, your job is your life, but you aren’t thinking of Francesca. You aren’t even thinking of Jinx or Brandi.
You sure as hell aren’t thinking about Raph.
Oh god Marshall I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you, goddamnit Marshall I’m sorry!
He’s strong, Mary. He’s always been strong, stronger than you’ve ever known, stronger than you could ever guess.
But will he make it without you, Mary?
Jinx and Brandi and Raph, they all need you, don’t they? Run to you with their problems, because they can’t keep their shit together, can’t do things on their own for one goddamn minute.
Marshall’s different.
You put up with the others needing you.
You’re terrified that one day Marshall will realize that he can get on just fine without you. Because Marshall is amazing, and he doesn’t need anyone.
But he needs you.
Mary, he needs you.
Hold on, Mary.
Goddamnit Mary, hold on.
Bobby’s calling your name. Everybody’s calling your goddamn name, Mary. Sirens and instructions and holy hell moving you and, wow that hurt and hold on, Mary.
You aren’t awake.
You aren’t even breathing.
But some small part of you feels it, feels him there, hold on Mary, and he needs you, Mary, and you aren’t going to let him down.
Hold on, Mary.
Goddamnit Mary, hold on.
You’re the job.
So your job is to get better, Mary.
And then figure out your fucking life.
Everybody needs you? Screw ‘em.
Who do you need, Mary?
Marshall.
Who do you need, Mary?
Mary, hold on.
Goddamnit, hold on, Mary.
He needs you too.
Mary, hold on.
Finis