A/N: In this story, Alex is going to face the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargain, depression and, finally, acceptance. It takes place a little before Bobby's departure from NYPD, and continues through Alex's cooperation with SVU. I hope you'll like it.
When she woke up at 6:00, Alex Eames immediately knew that this would not be a normal day of work, because her regular workday would be something like this:
At 5:55 the alarm clock goes off the first time and she usually ignores it.
At 6:00 the alarm clock goes off for the second time but she still ignores it.
At 6:05 the damn alarm goes off for the third time and Alex can no longer ignore it, she has to get up.
At 7:00 after a quick breakfast, a shower and a moment of pure vanity spent in front of the mirror, she's ready to leave her apartment and go straight to her new temporary workplace, to do her brand new temporary job until around 6:00 when she would get back home and "relax" until the next evil alarm's chirping.
Thus, waking up five minutes earlier and without even enjoying one last scuffle with the alarm must definitely mean something…
I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan…
She keeps repeating this to herself every morning during the long car ride through the New York City streets.
I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan, I'm on loan…
Here it goes again…
Because deep, deep down in her heart she has never stopped hoping to be called back by her former captain, to get her ass back into her former office and join her former partner at a crime scene. She will never admit it; she will always deny those feelings putting them aside and, at least for now, keeping them well hidden under a white expressionless mask of pure rage.
The morning car ride is the only daylight moment in which she consciously allows herself to think about what was her real job and her real life. At night, when the sun goes down and the shadows rise around the city overshadowing human minds, her sleep is frequently disturbed by dreams and nightmares about her not so remote past.
In spite of these mocking nocturnal recurrences, she is still thoroughly aware that this temporary reality is going to become her life.
Why?
Because it looks like anti-terrorism is going to become her new job…
Why?
Well, because she does not want to stay in MCS any longer.
Why?
Because Major Case changed a lot during the last year…
Why?
Ahah! Because her work partner for 12 years, or something like that, decided to retire from the force and transfer to fuckin' Maine….
Why?
"It's a quiet place." He said…
"I need to go away from here." He said…
"I think I should write a book." He said…
"I'll miss you, Eames." He finally told her in his last day at work, which has also been the very last time she saw him.
Then he disappeared into the wild landscapes of Maine.
Alex's resignation letter was almost done, she only had to sign it and deliver it to her almost former captain.
Bye bye Joe Hannah, thanks for the memories!
Everything had changed so fast during the last months; no, it definitely was not supposed to end this way. One year ago she was still happy and things were apparently going well at work, maybe better than ever. Right… apparently…
Suddenly, a fine morning of eight months ago, things changed. Eames arrived at work at her usual hour after her usual three round fight with the alarm clock at home, and she found her partner (yes, at the time he was still her partner) in their captain's office (soon to be former captain) talking to him. After a professional handshake, and a more informal hug, Bobby exited the windowed cubicle taking her by the elbow and leading her into the conference room nearby without uttering a word.
Alex immediately felt something was not right with him, she had confirmation to all her suspicions as soon as he started talking.
"Eames, I have to tell you something; we… we will be not working together anymore. I- I'm retiring from the NYPD…"
A heavy, heavy round stone dropped in her gut.
What kind of rock was that? Volcanic or plutonic? Umm… I don't think I remember the difference…
"Well… I… What can I say Bobby? I'm glad for you…" FALSE
"…You surely deserve it partner…" TRUE, but the smile she's wearing is FAKE and she knows Bobby noticed that; but who cares now?
I'm just thinking about the rocks Bobby, how am I supposed to smile while pondering if the stone that's rolling freely in my gut is a plutonic or a volcanic one?
"…. Now what? I'll see you feeding swans in Central Park or… collecting old stamps? Do you already have a walker? I can provide you one…"
Aaah, the lovely Eames' sarcasm!
The adjective plutonic derives from Pluto, the name of the ancient Romans god of the Underworld… Underworld? I suppose those rocks are called that because you find 'em deep, deep down in the Earth's mantle.
"Eames… uh, I'm… I… It's complicated you know?"
And why do volcanic rocks have such a name? Bah, maybe because they're from volcanos…
"So try one thing at time, Goren."
Am I really listening to him? And, most of all, do I really want to listen to him?
"I am also moving. I'm leaving New York."
Shit…
Thud!
Another stone has dropped and rolled over the first.
Another one? What color is it? It's a beautiful metallic black with bronze shades rock… wait! I recognize this one! This one is a biotite!
"Where?"
Alex became suddenly more serious as she felt the burden weighing and moving in her stomach.
"I'm going to move north, to Maine probably…"
Shit… Fuck… Shit….
Thud!
Another rock started rolling down her throat, through her esophagus until it collided with the solid bulk of the other two.
Is this a… Stop with this petrologic disquisition Alex Eames! How do I even know these things?! Ah, right, I have seen a geological exhibition last week, three hours straight in a museum with a man that acts and talks as if he's swallowed the whole "Encyclopedia, or Systematic Dictionary of the Sciences, Arts, and Crafts", written by Diderot and d'Alembert in the second half of the eighteenth century… Damn!
"When?"
That same man she felt so comfortable with was now announcing his alienation from the world he has always known. And from her. Yes, because she's included in the "World He Has Always Known".
He's probably kidding; April's fool is earlier this year, isn't it? No? Well, everybody loves to joke now and then, right?
"I think in a couple of months or so, I'm not sure. Maybe I'll just wait until my retirement is official or maybe… maybe I'll take some more time; I don't know yet, right now I'm in no rush."
He… How can he? How dare he?
How could he? How could he talk to her about his upcoming leaving with such a light-hearted spirit? How dared he talk to her with such a knowing smile on his lips while explaining his plans of a long, long and lonely life that does not involve her?
Her? Why? Who is she?
Let's stop this silly pronouns game!
SHE is Bobby Goren's partner; SHE's always been and always will be no matter what. SHE's always followed him, stood by him and understood him; supported him, comforted and confronted him. SHE is Alexandra Eames, Major Case first grade detective and partner of "Whack-job Goren" and she doesn't give a flying fuck about this.
He's not even going to leave…
"I can't believe this."
"Eames…"
"So this is it? This isn't a joke or something?"
"No, I'm afraid it's not."
"Ok, now if I ask you a question will you please answer honestly?"
Goren nodded silently at her question glancing at the floor and avoiding any form of eye contact with her.
"Why Bobby? Why now? I thought things were going well for you."
"Yeah Eames, you… you're right, but things have changed for me. I realized I want more from life."
"And you think you'll find it in the friggin' State of Maine?"
"That's what I hope."
Alex, lowering her gaze to her shoes, broke the little eye contact she managed to establish with him during the latest part of this conversation.
"Eames, please. Please, just… try to understand, I have to do this; I feel like I owe this to myself."
"I know Bobby."
Too bad I really know you need it Bobby, but that's fine, I also know you won't leave me.
"Alex, can you promise me something?"
"That depends on what you're asking, I can't promise anything…"
"No Eames, you have to promise me that you're not going to be mad at me because I'm leaving. You have to know that I'm content with my decision and…"
"Mad? Me? No Goren, actually I'm happy."
"You?"
"You heard me, I said I'm happy. At least this time you had the decency to tell me your intentions before disappearing."
With that, Alex turned on her heels and left Goren alone in the conference room, with his brilliant brain busy chewing on her last sentence.
Ouch, that must have hurt. Where did all that poison come from? Who cares, in a few days he'll be over it…
For the rest of the day they did not talk to each other if not strictly necessary and they absolutely did not look at each other. The following weeks flew by, their days were filled with work and things seemed to have settled back into the usual routine. The topic "retirement" had been carefully avoided if possible and, when not possible, the subject had always been discussed civilly over lunch or during the few pauses from work they sometimes were able to obtain.
Eventually Goren's last day of work arrived; that morning what Alex saw when she walked out of the elevator both scared and saddened her; her partner's desk was already half-empty, deprived of the few little objects that made a simple desk Bobby's desk. His books were all gone and his pen pot was nowhere to be seen as well. The only things remaining on the smooth polished surface were his closed laptop and the omnipresent brown leather binder.
Alex greeted her colleague for the last time as she spotted him behind the gun-lockers.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself." As his eyes cast downward a deep sadness and an unwelcome melancholy overtook him.
"So…Ready for our last day?"
"I guess. You?"
"Yep."
It's not so bad, because I'm sure I'll see you here tomorrow morning, right?
The day went on well, exactly like any other day of paperwork; the blanks were filled and the coffee cups refilled.
As the end of the day arrived, Bobby rose from his seat and approached her side of the desk in order to bid her farewell. But even this last salute sounded more like a "See you tomorrow" than a "Goodbye".
"I-I have to go now, Eames."
"Ok." See you tomorrow… "See you soon, Goren." Yep, tomorrow.
"Sure, we'll see each other again. Thank you."
What for? You bought breakfast this morning, not me…
Bobby was ready to leave with his closed binder in hand and his back towards her, then he turned again abruptly as if he had forgotten something important.
"Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll miss you. That's all..."
"I'll miss you too, Bobby."
"And I mean it, I'll see you again."
Sure Goren, what's wrong with tomorrow?
"Of course, I'll count on it." …Tomorrow I said…
"Goodbye."
And with that he was gone. Really gone this time.
This final, rather cold and definitely sterile goodbye, made Alex ponder about her partner, his fast departure and the fact that maybe this time it was true; maybe this time he won't come back…
Bullshit, I'll see him tomorrow.
I'll even buy coffee on my way to work.
As everyone could easily have foreseen, reality struck her the next morning.
The moment she stepped out of the elevator and into the squad room with coffees for two and did not see her colleague something finally broke the illusion, something triggered new feelings and new emotions in her.
"I'll see him tomorrow" turned into "I'll never see him again".
And "I'll never see him again" finally changed into "I will never see my fucking partner ever again. Fuck him and fuck you all!"
This was her last coherent thought about her partner before tossing the spare coffee in the trash bin and sitting at her usual place digging into papers and burying her soul in work, barely able to hold the tears threatening to flow from her eyelids.
What if he comes back?
Not a goddamn chance!
But maybe…
NO!
When Alex arrived at work that weird sensation flew through her body all over again; no, this was definitely not going to be a normal day…
As long as there is life, there is hope. As long as there is hope, there is life.
A/N: A huge 'thank you' goes to my friend and beta Purplecleric.
More to come, stay tuned.