Reluctantly, Dumas released Mari when she pulled from his arms.  Part of him never wanted to let her out of his sight.  But the tap of her finger against his nose earned a smile and a nod.  After all, if he joined her in the shower, that would almost certainly lead to more fooling around -- and they should probably pace themselves.  So Dumas simply stretched out on the bed, releasing a contented sigh.  After she cleaned up, they could treat themselves to something special.  Maybe breakfast at the nearby diner.<br/><br/>When Mari returned, Dumas rolled over to face her, curious to hear the question she was so hesitant to ask.  He assumed it would be something about his feelings for her or the future of their relationship.  But the truth proved far more terrible.  An icy chill shot down Dumas’s spine when he saw the strange smile on her face.  And when he heard her words, he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.<br/><br/>“Mari...don’t joke.”  But he already knew it wasn’t a joke.  He knew who she was.  Worst of all, he knew that he would have recognized her immediately, if he hadn’t been blinded by his desperate loneliness.<br/><br/>Chester and White had trusted him to protect Mari.<span style="font-style: italic">Mari</span>had trusted him to protect her.  And he’d done worse than failing -- he’d been the cause of harm.  Dumas’s throat constricted as the true immensity of his crime hit home.  He’d made love to Mari without her knowledge or permission.  For all practical purposes, he might as well have held her down and raped her.  Unable to bear the weight of his guilt, Dumas’s heart collapsed in on itself, crushing all the joy that had recently blossomed there.<br/><br/>But anger was always waiting inside Dumas, ready to fill any void.  This wasn’t his fault.  He’d been maliciously tricked.  Before the other Mari could quite get out the door, he sprang forward and grabbed her arm with bruising strength.  “Bitch,” he snarled, raising his hand to strike her face.  He wanted to hurt her like she’d hurt him.  “You fucking bitch!”<br/><br/>Fortunately, before the blow could fall, a small fragment of sanity returned to Dumas.  Releasing the other Mari, he took a shaky step backwards.  It was bad enough that he’d nearly hit someone.  It was even worse that he’d nearly hit a woman.  And it was absolutely horrible that he’d nearly hit Mari.  Too stunned to offer any further resistance, Dumas stood motionless as the other Mari departed.  Then, after the door had swung shut behind her, he dropped to his knees on the floor.  For the second time in his life, Dumas wished he could just fucking die.  And for the second time in his life, the universe refused to let him.<br/><br/>He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, arms wrapped around his body in a vice-like grip.  Until finally, he heard a voice, speaking firmly to him.<span style="font-style: italic">Stop feeling sorry for yourself and go help her.</span><br/><br/>Looking up, Dumas blinked the moisture from his eyes.  “DEE?”  But he was still alone in the room.  As far as Dumas knew, no holographic projectors had ever been installed here.  Maybe he’d just imagined the familiar voice.  Or maybe DEE had left some imprint on his mind. Whatever their source, the words snapped Dumas out of his trance.  Staggering to his feet, he hastily pulled on his clothing, and then grabbed his phone.  There was more at stake here than his hurt feelings.  He still needed to do his best to protect Mari -- even if he could never deserve her forgiveness, much less her love.<br/><br/>“Ches?”  The words burst from Dumas as soon as Chester answered his phone.  “Shadow Mari is on the move again.  We’ve got to find her.”  Dumas paused, sucking in a deep breath.  It felt like the first time he’d tasted oxygen since the other Mari revealed her trick.  Forcing himself to go on, Dumas hoped the technology of voice transmission wasn’t advanced enough to capture the raw pain in his voice.  “And...I fucked up, Ches.  I fucked up really bad.”