A.N. Wow. That was a truly amazing episode. If Vincent doesn't win an Emmy, I'll be appalled. I needed to get something out about poor Bobby, so here's my very short take on his thoughts at the end of Endgame. This is among the first in what I suspect will be many pieces based on this episode. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I would love nothing better to give Goren a hug right now, but he isn't mine.
He sat there. There were darkened shapes around the room, edges blending into the pale walls, now tinted a sullen grey by the absence of light. The light was off, and the curtains were closed, only the feeblest of light managing to worm its way though.
His eyes were open, virtually unblinking. His mind? Stopped.
It was an odd sensation, to have no feelings. To have no thoughts rushing in a reliable, ever-present stream, to draw upon when needed. Bobby always had some kind of idea, some tidbit of information he could count upon to distract himself from the reality of his increasingly grim life.
Now, nothing. Only an empty void, a deep, dark well inexorably drawing any kind of thought trying to creep out inwards again. There was no far-away rush of a subterranean river to be carried away in, only the bitter echoes of his mother's final moments, and the professional voices of her nurses.
Even these seemed muted, tangled up in a muffling blanket. They sounded distant, like a faint radio heard in the house next door. Present, but still unreachable.
Bobby's eyes were dry. He had come close to crying before. No longer. He couldn't grieve, couldn't think, couldn't take the events of the last few days and sort them into anything approaching sense, so he didn't bother. He stopped, and just let himself go.
It was almost a relief.