Just what we all need: another fanfic based on "Stan by Me". I've already read several stories about how some people think the episode should have ended and here I am to give my own opinion on it.

Can you blame me? That episode had a lot to write about.

By the way, on usanetwork, 61 of people voted that Mary and Marshall were the best couple. Yay for them!

A Light in the Dark

The elevator slid close and Stan was lost from view.

Marshall couldn't help but give a little smirk. He was sure that Stan was going to do something to Agent O'Conner that he was most likely to regret the next day. Well, Stan would be just fine with whatever decision he was going to make. O'Connor, on the other hand, was the one who was going to regret every stepping off the elevator.

Focusing on what was at hand, Marshall gave Mary a side-long glance. She seemed to be silently digesting what O'Connor had said about her sister. Her eyes were glued to the elevator floor, her arms hugging herself tightly, her brow knitted in the way Marshall loved.

In other circumstances, he would have teased her at this point, making some observation of her unnatural character: focused. Such a joke would usually end up with him holding his throbbing arm and Mary stomping away as fast and moodily as she could.

But now wasn't the time for a snappy remark or a joke. Humor wouldn't make Mary feel better now. Quiet and space would. That way she could think.

The elevator chimed loudly indicating that they had reached the bottom floor. Mary jumped at the sound and her eyes searched madly for an invisible enemy.

Marshall frowned. Mary wasn't so easy to scare but now she looked terrified. Whatever had happened in that cellar had really shaken her.

"It's ok," Marshall murmured. Her gently took Mary's elbow and started to lead her out of the elevator.

Mary's body went rigid and she pulled away from Marshall with a gasp. She quickly jumped out of the elevator, leaving a dumbstruck Marshall staring after her.

Mary practically ran to the glass doors that were the exit. She slammed her body into the door and pushed hard. The door didn't budge.

Marshall watched her quietly as he left the elevator before it closed on him. He cautiously walked towards Mary, slowly as if he were trying to approach a skittish animal.

Mary turned at the sound of his footsteps. Eyes wide with fear met his calm ones. Her blonde hair fell over her pale face, making her seem even more like an exotic animal.

Marshall held up his hands for Mary to see. "It's ok," he repeated softly with a gentle smile. "You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you."

Mary seemed to show recognition as she eased up on the door. She turned to face Marshall, her hands limp in front of her.

"Marshall," she said in barely a whisper as if first seeing him.

Marshall nodded as he closed the distance between them. Mary had had a rough day. It was only natural that she would be scared of him and everyone else who came too close. After being kidnapped, the natural feeling was to fear. Yet, even though he knew that, Marshall couldn't help but feel a small pang of hurt in his chest. Mary should have been able to trust him if no one else.

"The door won't open," she said shakily.

Marshall reached past Mary and grabbed the door handle. As indicated on the handle itself in large black letters, Marshall pulled on the door and it opened.

Mary stared at the door in bemusement before finally saying, "Oh".

"Come on, let's get you home," Marshall said sympathetically.

Mary nodded and walked through the door with Marshall right behind her. He made sure to stay a bit of a distance away, not wanting to scare Mary off again.

They silently approached Marshall's car – Mary's was currently being used as evidence – and Marshall walked ahead of Mary to open the door for her.

Mary peered into the dark car, examining it thoroughly before sliding into the seat. Marshall's eyes lingered on her as she inhaled deeply and looked out all of the windows. Sensing she was being watched, Mary met Marshall's gaze. He was expecting some remark about how he looked like a doofus, but instead, Mary quickly looked away.

Marshall offered her a reassuring smile before closing the door with a sigh.

Mary didn't trust him. That much was evident. Whatever had happened to her with that Spanky guy had broken her trust in him and possibly every one else in the world. She was just as afraid of him as the ones who had locked her up in the first place.

Unexpectantly, a pain flared up in Marshall's chest and he clutched at his shirt, trying to suppress the pain that he was sure was his heart wrenching open. Mary had always been able to depend on him. It hurt him now that she didn't.

Marshall walked to the other side of the car, lowering his hand. Mary had been through enough. She might start to worry about him if he showed any sign of weakness. She needed him now. She needed him to be brave when she wasn't; she needed him to protect her when she was vulnerable. She needed a light to fend off the darkness that surrounded her.

Marshall slid into the driver's seat and – after giving Mary one last concerned look – started the car.

Mary cringed and pressed herself against the chair. Marshall clenched his jaw and pulled out onto the street.

He wanted to know what had happened; what had made Mary so fidgety. He wanted to console her; to hold her and tell her everything was all right. He wanted to touch her; to make sure that she was really there, but any contact would just further take her away from him. Against his wishes, he sat still, hands clenching the wheel.

Although he did not speak, his eyes travelled to Mary's face at every open moment he had. He didn't want her to leave his sight again. He didn't want to look away and then find that she was missing again. He didn't want to lose her, to feel such fear for hours as he scoured the city, looking for his Mary.

He didn't want the images of what her captors were doing to her to haunt his thoughts. He didn't want to feel hopelessly useless. He didn't want to feel lost; to have a piece of his being be taken away from him. Without Mary, he was an incomplete puzzle. He didn't want to feel like that ever again.

Quiet sobs broke Marshall from his thoughts and he instantly turned his head to look at Mary. As the street lights passed over them, he could see the tears glisten on her face. She looked so frail and broken that all Marshall wanted to do was hold her and try to put her together. But he couldn't do that, not yet. Mary needed to heal; to trust him before he could comfort her.

He was used to this. If something effected Mary enough to make her cry, then he kept his distance. Mary never accepted other's help or sympathy, claiming that she didn't want their pity. So, all he could do was watch from a distance as Mary worked to put herself together. Then she would throw on a smirk, shoot a remark and carry on as if nothing had happened. Others have considered it strength but Marshall considered it stubbornness.

Mary's sobs increased as more tears pooled from her eyes to drip onto her clenched fists. Her red-rimmed eyes were evident in the passing lights.

Marshall clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel harder. Every fiber in his being wanted to hold and console her but that wasn't what Mary wanted. That was never what she wanted.

Her cries became louder as she was unable to suppress them any longer. Her body shook as she cried. Whatever had been done to her had been bad enough to make her this fragile. But Marshall wouldn't ask. His job was to offer silent comfort. Mary would tell him when she was ready.

But he couldn't wait that long.

"Damn it," Marshall seethed.

He turned the steering wheel hard and the car swerved to the side. Marshall applied more pressure to the gas pedal and the car sped up. He drove fast and hard until he found the place that he was looking for. He kept the car going and they bounced over the curb. The car drove through grass and sailed over rocks.

Finally Marshall stopped the car abruptly and put on the break. Before Mary could question him, he clipped off his seat belt and whirled around to face Mary. He threw his arms around her and gripped her tightly to his body.

At first, it was silent. Mary was tense in his arms and her cries were stilled. Then, she fell into him, pressing her face into his chest as the cries erupted from her mouth. Her hands clung to the back of his shirt as her body trembled against his.

Marshall placed his chin on her head and stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words every now and then. He felt Mary's head turn against his chest and he knew she was looking out the window.

Marshall looked too and saw the sight that he knew would comfort Mary. They had driven into the park and stopped in front of the fountain that stood in the middle of it. Laced over the fountain was a canopy of lights that showered the water in light. It was a peaceful place that Mary often went to think. She had taken Marshall once so he knew of its effect on her.

And it seemed to work. As Mary gazed at the fountain, her cries subsided and she relaxed in Marshall's arms.

He sighed heavily into her hair, glad that his technique had worked.

"I was scared," Mary's muffled voice said from Marshall's chest.

Marshall jumped slightly at the sound. Was Mary going to tell him what happened? She never did that.

"He was going to-" Mary's voice faltered and she swallowed. Marshall remained silent, allowing Mary to finish. "He was going to rape me."

Marshall froze and his arms went rigid around Mary. So that was what happened. Not only did the bastards chain her up and threaten her life, but they had nearly raped her too.

Marshall held Mary closer more in anger than in condolence. That was why Mary didn't trust him. She probably didn't trust any man at this point and probably never will. She was scarred, forever broken because of the incident that had nearly occurred. All Marshall could do was offer sympathy at a distance. She wasn't likely going to see him the same way again.

"But I-" Mary started to continue.

"Shh," Marshall commanded gently. "That's enough. Don't think about it anymore. You're safe."

Mary nodded into his chest and sighed. She didn't pull away and he didn't release her. Maybe she did still trust him: her best and only friend.

"Thank-you."

The word was so soft that Marshall wasn't sure if he had heard it at all. But he was sure that he had and he smiled. Mary did trust him. He was her partner and she trusted him just as much as he trusted her: with his life. She would be able to go to him for help or for a soothing word. He was sure that she knew that. She could count on him for anything. He would never do anything to hurt and he did know that Mary knew that.

Marshall was in no hurry and Mary didn't seem to want to get home too badly so they stayed in the car as the fountain splashed before them.

Eventually, Mary's breathing grew deep and even. She was asleep. Marshall smiled and carefully placed her back against her seat. Then he started the car and drove out of the park.

He found the road and continued on towards her house. Maybe he should call Stan and tell him that he wouldn't be back until morning. Stan would understand. Plus, Marshall wanted to stay with Mary.

Marshall gave Mary a last lingering stare, taking in her sleeping form; her peaceful face, before looking back at the road.

Mary wouldn't mind if he stayed the night at her place right?

The End

Thank you.