A/N: Okay, I'm literally brimming with ideas…nothing for months and all of a sudden…inspiration. Love it. ("Breakeven" lyrics following throughout, by The Script—I highly recommend listening to this. It's literally perfect.)

Wide Awake Wishes

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayed to a god that I don't believe in
Cuz I got time while she got freedom
Cuz when a heart breaks no it don't break even
Her best days will be some of my worst
She finally met a man that's gonna put her first
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping
Cuz when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven
What am I suppose to do when the best part of me was always you
What am I suppose to say when I'm all choked up and your ok
I'm falling to pieces…

She was going through with it.

Her dress was finished, fitted, beautiful, hidden in the office in a white garment bag from her sister's prying eyes and non superstitious fiancé. Simple, strapless, elegant and easy, like she wanted. The flowers were ordered; typical white roses, a few peonies for color. Outdoor wedding, in the Albuquerque "winter." She refused heels. She would go barefoot in the sand first.

The guest list was minimal…on her side. The mother of the bride. Her sister—maid of honor. No father; she'd asked Stan to walk her down the aisle, and he'd teared up at the offer, quickly accepting. Eleanor, well, just because she'd never admit how much she enjoyed having someone to spar with just for the hell of it.

It would be beautiful. It would be perfect.

It would be sad, too.

She was missing a vital part of the formula, and it would never be the same. Her best man, her best friend, her partner.

They hadn't spoken in months.

They'd never been apart, and now…now she'd lost him. In the beginning, she'd tried. She'd reached out. Made hundreds of calls, left thousands of messages. Every day she tried a little less. Until a little less became every other day, and every other day became once a week. And then, not at all.

It hurt, not to have his blessing. Not to have him.

I can't give you away.

Those were his parting words. She'd stared at the spot where he stood, long after he'd left. Left her. He'd promised he would never leave. Now she was left feeling empty, the day before the reason he'd walked out.

He knew it was coming. She had given him timely warning, the ring had weighed heavy on her finger for little over a year now. It seemed more a constant reminder of that day, rather than the happy implication of 'til death do we part.

Raph sympathized, but never understood the connection. He didn't know what it felt like to lose half of your soul. No, Raph was easy, like appeasing a child with candy. He didn't fight for her. He'd never had too. He'd never been any the wiser of the inner workings of the complicated relationship she'd pushed away.

Her best friend had fought for her. Marshall had fought tooth and nail.

She'd denied him. She'd lied to him. She thought she would always have him.

It was her fault.

A day before her wedding, and she felt sick. Sick of the planning that she used to keep her mind off of him.

If he hadn't said it, they would have been fine. But the words were out, and they could never be taken back, no matter how much we try to retrieve them.

A day before her wedding, and all she wanted was him…

XOX

"Okay, see, I'm not supposed to be here," Marshall said, flinching at the pink paper mache décor, heart beads, and 'Kiss The Bride' tee shirts adorning Eleanor, Jinx, Brandi, and, to his abject horror, Mary—who honestly seemed to be the most horrified of all. "I'm a guy…we don't do bachelorette parties—"

Mary balked, grabbing Marshall by the ear from his stunned position at her front door. "Oh, hell no. See if I have to endure male strippers and crazy alcoholics all night long, you are going to suffer with me my friend," Mary whispered darkly.

The next thing he knew, he was wearing a 'Kiss The Bride' tee shirt and listening to Jinx belt out the lyrics to a slew of wedding inspired songs, improvising on which songs actually had which lyrics, culminating in a sort of mish mash "wedding remix," according to the clearly tone deaf bar owner. Mary kept a steady pace of tequila shots when she wasn't pounding her head against the table. Brandi, in all made of honor glory, had yet to realize the strippers were paid to like her, while Eleanor managed a permanent air of oblivious happiness after three cosmos.

Marshall was in bridal hell.

Mary finally looked up, alcohol tinged eyes desperate to leave. Sensing that the rest of the party was well distracted, he helped his drunken partner out of her chair, stumbling all the way, out the door of the cheap, middle of nowhere bar.

"I hate them all," Mary said surely.

"Their intentions are…good…" Marshall laughed, the single sober one of the party.

"Har Har," she mocked him. She sat down on the curb roughly, staring up at the midnight sky. It was a blissfully clear night, and as she stared at the familiar stars, one bright light streaked briefly across the darkness before burning out in the shadows. "Hey, shooting star!" Mary exclaimed, elated. She'd loved them when she was a kid, always wishing for silly things like bikes and school cancellations. After her father had vanished, she'd begun wishing for him instead.

Marshall lowered himself to the ground beside Mary, grinning. "If you could wish for anything in the world, what would it be?"

Her smile faded slowly. "Same thing I always wished for. Wishes though, they don't come true."

He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him on the empty curb. "Well, how about instead of wishing for the same thing, you wait, remember that the universe owes you one wish, and you cash it in when you finally come up with that perfect, obtainable, wish?"

Mary laughed, shaking her head. "That is cheesy beyond belief doofus, even for you. But, hey, why not. I like the universe owing me."

"Thought you would come around to that idea."

They sat for awhile after that, silently, comfortably.

"What about you?"

"What?" he asked.

"If you could have anything, wish for anything, what would it be?" she stated quietly.

He looked away, pulling at the loose stone of the curb. "Why wish for what you can't have, right?"

Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head curiously. "Hey, I'm supposed to be the cynical one; you believe in this wish-y stuff. It's your game, you started it."

He shrugged, finally facing her. "If I could have anything…if I could have anything at all..." he sighed, mouth opening and closing, words dying in his throat.

"If I could wish for anything, I would wish for you, Mary. I would wish you knew how much I loved you," he finished, steady, sure.

"Marshall…" she tried, voice catching. He shook his head, seeming to decide something, and pulled her face to his, crushing her lips to his. She reacted to the sudden, abrupt contact, something familiar, something wholly different. She couldn't breathe, all oxygen gone, as he held her for dear life and his mouth slid over hers. He was losing her, and he wanted what he could still have. When he finally pulled away, shakily leaning his forehead against hers, he knew they were done.

"I needed to know, before I leave," he said, almost inaudibly. Her eyes shot to his at that announcement.

"What…"

"I'm leaving, Mary. I filed for reassignment."

"I-I…I don't understand. Why are you leaving?" she questioned desperately.

"I love you, Mary. I can't watch you marry him. But you will, and I can't watch and pretend I'm happy for you. I'll let you go, but I can't give you away."

He stood, looking at the woman he could never have. For once, she was speechless, and he was gone.

XOX

Mary leaned her forehead against the cool windowpane, staring out at the sky like she had that night. Raph was asleep, oblivious to the desperate whispers she uttered to the stars.

"Hey, universe, you owe me one…"

To be continued.