The Reason

Bobby/Sam (invented character)

Music blared as Bobby sank another whiskey, slammed the glass on the bar and ordered another. How many had he had? He wasn't sure. He didn't even know why he had come here. The bar was dark, dank and smoke hung heavy in the air, blurring his vision and searing his lungs. He didn't want to be here but he didn't want to be anywhere else. The latest case involved some issues that Bobby would rather not face and some he'd rather not face alone. Whiskey had become his new friend.

Throwing his head back, Bobby downed his drink, wiped his mouth and motioned to the bartender for another.

'You going for some kind of record here?' a familiar voice shouted from behind him, slapping his shoulder. Raising an eyebrow Bobby looked glassy eyed over his shoulder at Jack.

'What is the current record?' Bobby joked miserably, rolling his empty glass around on the bar, watching it intently.

'Look' Jack began leaning closer to Bobby, competing with the music. 'Why don't I take you home or you'll feel worse in the morning' he told him placing his hand over his newly arrived shot, showing Bobby it wasn't optional. He looked at Jack with tired eyes and nodded sadly, sliding off his bar stool and throwing some bills on the bar.

Once out of the bar, Bobby felt his lungs open up and fill with the cold night air. It had been raining and Bobby's breath lingered in the air as he exhaled. He dug his hands into his jacket pockets trying to keep them warm, and walked with his eyes to the ground. The silence between the colleagues was so intense Jack swore one of them would snap. Bobby went first.

'Why me?' He screamed into the night sky. He wasn't a religious man but he needed someone to blame. 'Why her?' he shouted through gritted teeth, rushing forward to kick a bag of trash that lay in the alley where they were. Bobby missed the bag, lost his footing in a puddle and crashed shoulder first into the side of a building, sliding down the wall into a heap of tears.

'Bobby' Jack knelt beside him as he wept. 'Bobby look at me' he repeated, slapping his friend's cheek until his eyes rolled toward him. 'Listen to me Bobby' Bobby's head rolled against the wall towards Jack, his face tear stained, his breath hitching as he cried. 'She will be fine' jack told him firmly.

Bobby let out a semi evil laugh and rolled his head away from Jack. 'You don't know that Jack' he told him weakly, using his real name to emphasize the situation. No room for jokes. No room for Sparky. Jack was silent. He didn't know if she would be ok but wasn't that what people told their friends in these situations?

'She will. She will because she has you' Jack comforted him. He wasn't sure if Bobby would buy it though.

Again, Bobby let out the laugh. 'I'm sitting here in a puddle, my pants are soaked, I'm filled to the fucking brim with whiskey…' he reeled off the list to Jack. 'The hospital think I'm a danger and wont let me near her room...' he sighed heavily, tears welling up in his eyes again. 'I couldn't protect her before and I can't now'

Jack pulled on Bobby's jacket, dragging him to his feet and slammed him into the wall. 'It's not your job to protect her Bobby so don't give me that shit!' anger heavy on his voice. Sympathy didn't work, now he would beat it into him. 'Sam got shot, by a sniper no less' he said bluntly, slamming Bobby against the wall for a second time 'You of all people should understand how difficult it is for anyone to even comprehend that kind of situation' Jack spat at him before releasing his jacket leaving him bruised against the wall. 'Get yourself home and clean yourself up. I want to see you at your desk tomorrow morning Bobby. No excuses' He told him, inches from his face before turning to exit the alley.

Bobby brought his hands to his face and cried.