Tough Times
The characters of LO:CI do not belong to me.
This is another response to the 10 word challenge put forth by Roadrunner.
After all the ashes had settled, Bobby Goren sat on the side of his bed, removing his shoes and socks, and thought about the events of the past two years. A pretty tough time, he thought. And it had been. His life had always been a little on the chaotic side, but now it had turned into uttter complete mayhem.
First there had been the terrible news of his mother's cancer, and her subsequent deathbed confession. After forty-some years, out of the blue he learned that the man he thought was his father all these years probably wasn't. And a cold-hearted serial killer probably was.
After that came a new surprise, the announcement of the nephew Bobby never knew he had, which in turn had led to the disastrous drive to Tates and being committed. He'd been strapped down, the first time, for over forty-eight hours with no food or water. He'd felt like he was losing it, dehydrated, drugged and hallucinating like he'd been on some kind of an acid trip. He'd begged them for water, swore he'd take the drugs, and when they'd finally brought him a small cup, they mocked him, deliberately spilling it.
After he had finally been released, he had, of course, that bastard Chief of D's to contend with. He was determined to make things as rough as possible on him—a six month suspension with no pay, and ensuing psychiatric evaluations with a possible demotion thrown in. And maybe, just maybe, pending the hearing, they'd let him keep his job. Well, Bobby would take his punishment, and do what he had to do, but nothing more. If the NYPD valued him enough, he'd keep his job. If not…well, he wasn't going to crawl back with his tail between his legs.
And Frank and that damn crack pipe…he should have figured that. Their last meeting had been bad, and despite his last words to his brother, he did love him. Bobby had gone above and beyond, now it was up to Frank. With Donny still on the run and in trouble, perhaps Frank would eventually see the light. Only time would tell.
But that was in the past. Six months later, Bobby was still on the force, and back to work. In spite of the Chief of D's suggestion that Bobby had done it for an "atta boy," the fact of the matter was that Tates was investigated, and more than a few changes took place. Bobby got more than a few marks in his jacket (which was pretty large by now) for his stunt, but he also did receive a few "atta boys" albeit on the sly. Only problem was, now he was literally buried under a mountain of paperwork.
But it had all been worth it. The best part about it was that even with all their initial problems the last few years, things were actually better than ever with his partner. Better than they'd ever been.
"Bobby!" Alex called. "I'm waiting, and you know how I hate to wait. Are you coming or not?"
Yeah, I'm coming, he thought, as a wicked grin came over his face. With that, he shucked the rest of his clothes and slipped into the bathtub with his beautiful Alex. Putting their arms around each other's wet slippery bodies Bobby thought how happy he really was now. He could put up with just about anything they threw at him now. As long as he had her to come home to.
End