Beginning and Ending
The Finale to Endgame
After another nightmarish case, one that she'd again staked her career on her partner's judgment as he became way too involved, Alex Eames was finally leaving the stationhouse, alone. She shivered as she felt a cold chill run up and down her spine, as she'd had when her mother suffered the stroke or her husband had been killed. After phoning around and asking, discreetly, several people where Goren was, her worst fears seemed to be confirmed when no one knew the answer anymore than she did. She got behind the wheel and went immediately to the one place she thought he might be.
Robert Goren sat motionless beside the bed, holding his mother's almost lifeless hand. No other place did he feel so helpless, like a boy expected to make man-sized decisions. Part of him wished that Alex was here, to comfort him, to help him, and to finally meet his mother, although he wasn't sure why he thought it was a good idea.
Bobby's brother stood outside the door, like a sentry almost, waiting for something or someone, even Michael himself didn't know who until he saw her round the corner at top speed. "Is he here?" were the first words that came out of Alex's mouth after she got her breathing down to a semi-normal state.
Michael nodded. Alex was more than just a partner, even he could see that, and if Bobby couldn't, he was absolutely crazy. "He's inside. With her."
"Is he okay?" Her line of sight went to her partner slumped in his chair, holding his mother's hand.
"No." Michael shook his head for emphasis. "No."
She paused, torn between wanting to be with Bobby and wanting to help his brother. "Michael…"
He shook his head. "Go on in, Alex. He needs you." He turned and walked inside with her, the sound of the door closing earning Bobby's attention.
The connection between Alex and Bobby was instantaneous, as it was in almost every situation, and she walked to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Mom," Bobby said, his voice shaking, not knowing why, but knowing that he wanted his mother and Alex to officially meet.
In a moment of clarity, Frances Goren looked up at her son and the petite woman standing next to him. "This is her?" She'd asked Bobby to bring his girlfriend by earlier, but nothing had happened, not that she'd really been surprised.
"This is Alex." It was one of the few times, maybe the only time, he had ever introduced her without a rank or last name. He didn't even correct her earlier assumption by saying Alex was his partner; she was so much more than that.
Frances stared at Alex, as if trying to size her up. As if trying to bait her like Bobby baited their suspects, Frances said, "Alex is a boy's name."
"It's my name," Alex said, no sense of a challenge in her softened, quiet voice. "It's short for Alexandra."
"Alexandra…" Frances's eyes were fixed on Alex's. All Bobby or Michael could do was watch. "Do you love my son?"
It was a simple question and it was the most complicated question that could be asked. Alex never faltered, never hesitated, before answering, seriously, "Yes. Yes, I do."
"Good. Then you'll take care of him then."
"Yes," Alex said, her focus fully on Frances, unaware of the boys' focus on her and the conversation. "Yes, I will."
Silence fell over the room, too much silence, and the priest that roamed the hospice floor stopped at the doorway, breaking the spell-like atmosphere. "Last rites?"
Michael hesitated, but Bobby nodded, knowing how they'd both been brought up, Catholic. Last rites were something he never wanted to think about when it came to his mother, but something he knew must be done. Alex moved back to where the two brothers were standing, watching, knowing there was nothing else she could do.
The next two days seemed to be both the longest and shortest of Alex's entire life. During the day, she worked with Mike Logan, a perfect arrangement because the latest partner in his long list had been reassigned only days before. He wasn't Bobby, but trying to keep him out of trouble kept her busy, her mind occupied. Her nights were absorbed with helping Bobby make the final arrangements and trying to get some sort of reaction from her partner. He'd been running on autopilot; she hadn't been able to get him to talk much, eat, or even sleep.
Even now, at the memorial service, he was silent, unresponsive. The only words he'd said all day were that he wanted her to sit between him and Michael, with the family. As opposed to the last rites at the hospital, the service was not Catholic and was attended by only a handful of people. She doubted that few, if any, present had ever met Frances or Michael; most seemed to be there to support Bobby. For that, she was thankful, knowing that his mother had always been the most important person in his life. Most of the guests were Bobby's friends she'd met over the years mixed with four police officers, pretty much her favorite ones that weren't Bobby or legally family. Their ex-captain, James Deakins, was actually getting Bobby to talk some, not about his mother, but enough to count as an actual conversation. Then there was their present captain, Danny Ross, talking with Logan. Alex achieved as near to a smile as had been possible in the next few days as she saw the petite woman, one of her two best girl friends, Carolyn Barek, standing at Mike's side. Carolyn returned Alex's worried expression, leaving Logan and Ross to talk while she made her way over to Alex and Bobby.
"Hey." Carolyn hugged Alex. "How is he?"
Their voices were lowered so that they couldn't be overheard and Alex shook her head slightly. "Not good. He's not talking."
"Not good, Alex." She paused, looking at her. "Not even to you?"
Alex shook her head. "He's staying over, but…it's more than just his mom. There's a lot of things…"
"Yeah. Mike says there's been some talk at the precinct." She could judge by her friend's face that Alex didn't like the rumors, but she wasn't given a chance to ask if they were true.
"How are you feeling?" Although it was obvious that Carolyn was finally on the road back to recovery, her lack of the black wavy locks she was known for was an all-too-obvious reminder of the hell she'd been through.
Carolyn shrugged it off. "I'll be back bossing around Logan in no time at all." Although her words were gruff, it was obvious that Barek felt the same way about her ex-partner as Alex did Bobby. "You tell him that if there's anything either one of us can do…"
"I will." The two women hugged again as Mike came to find his girlfriend, putting his arm protectively around her again.
Little by little, the crowd thinned out until it was only the two partners left to face each other.
"It was nice seeing Carolyn again." After she'd diagnosed nearly a year before and taken a leave of absence, they didn't see her as much.
Bobby nodded. "It was." There was a long stretch of silence that scared Alex before he began to speak again. "I'm going home. To my apartment."
"I can get some clothes, pack a bag…"
Bobby shook his head quickly. "No. I have to figure things out for myself this time." It seemed like everything was coming at once, the truth about his family, his mother's death, and he was scared of making one more change, the biggest of his life.
"Bobby. Bobby, it's not a good idea…You shouldn't be by yourself." She paused, her eyes connecting with his own. In seven years, the only time they'd been apart was when she'd been pregnant and lately, while he took time off for his mother. Even when they fought, they never volunteered to be apart, ever. His pushing her away terrified her almost as much as his being alone scared him. "If you don't want me there, just please, let Michael stay or something. Or call Logan or one of your buddies. Please."
"I want to be alone."
Those words panicked her, but she knew that there was nothing she could do, short of doing a twenty-four hour stakeout outside his apartment or handcuffing him and dragging him somewhere safe. "Call me. I mean it, Bobby. Call me."
He nodded, knowing she was worried; so was he. "Okay." There was nothing else to do, no words left either of them could say, so he walked away. It was the sight of him doing so that finally brought Alex to silent tears.
Sitting in her car outside, settling down for the long wait she might have ahead of her, she answered her phone when it began to vibrate. "Alex? Alex, is that you?"
Alex closed her eyes at the familiar voice, almost able to see her father sitting in his chair, the phone beside him, there for her as he always was. "Hey, Dad."
"I heard about Goren's mother. I'm sorry, honey. How are you holding up?"
It was the first time that someone had out and out asked her that question. "I…I don't know. I'm worried about him. There's more than just his mother's death. He's taking risks..."
"Please be careful." The father in him knew who took care of his little girl and knew the truth was that no one ever cared for Alex like Bobby. Still, another part of him never stopped worrying about her, no matter how old she was or how much he trusted her judgment and her partner.
"Not risks like that. It's just…" She couldn't admit that he was pushing her away, not to her father. He had always played by the book as much as possible and knew, or thought she knew, his feelings on fraternization.
"Just what, honey?" Worry was stressed on his face as he heard the unspoken words in his daughter's voice.
"Just…" She couldn't admit that the case she was so worried about wasn't a case at all, anymore. Mark Ford Brady had been executed days before, the same night Frances Goren had died.
He knew his daughter's worries had little to do with Goren, the partner, and more to do with Goren, the man she loved. Although he hadn't been crazy about the prospect at first, hadn't wanted to admit it, he finally had to accept how good the unorthodox cop had been for his daughter. "Honey, I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but he'll get better. He'll need to adjust to his mother's death, but he'll be okay, especially if you're there beside him, like your mama always was with me."
Alex knocked on the door for five minutes straight and started looking for a key before Bobby opened the door, not speaking. "What now?" Alex asked, her arms crossed.
"What now?" He feigned innocence, although he knew well what she was talking about.
"Are you going to give up? You can't just…You can't just give up."
He smiled, finally, and, although it was small and pain-filled, the sight made Alex feel slightly better. "Come in."
She saw the old familiar sights of the kitchen and living room, a place that had come to be like a second home to her, and went immediately to the kitchen, making coffee. He watched her, seeing how at home she seemed to be. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Stubbornness must rub off." She shot back at him. "What do you want to eat?"
"I'm not…"
She turned to face him. "Bobby. I didn't ask if you were hungry. I asked what you wanted to eat."
He smiled, less pain-filled, more the way he always smiled at her. "A sandwich?"
"Turkey, cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, mustard…?"
"No mayonaise." Now that they were actually talking about food, he had to admit to himself that he was hungry after not eating since his mother's death.
She smiled, the prospect of him eating at least one battle she'd won with him. "Go sit."
A few moments later, she brought in a tray with two plates full of sandwiches and chips along with two cups of coffee. Her smile faded as she looked at the case file on his coffee table. Even from that distance, she knew it was Brady's. "Put it away."
"Do you trust me?"
Alex looked at him, the file, and then him again. She trusted him with everything she had, but she also knew that, true or not, just the possibility of Brady being his birth father could kill Bobby. She had never knowingly encouraged him to do anything that could hurt him and she wouldn't do so now. "You know I do. Now put the damned file away, Bobby, or I'm leaving."
Something in her eyes, her tone, made him realize she meant the words she was saying, that she did trust him and that she would leave, longer than just the night. "I don't trust me. I can't. I can't."
She sat beside him, putting his hands together, holding them between her own. "Bobby…" He tried to move away from her and she looked hurt. "Bobby."
"I can't, Alex." It was the first time he directly called her by her first time in their entire partnership, although he always referred to her that way with his friends. "I can't. I can't trust myself with you."
"Bobby…" She looked at him. "I trust you."
"What if he is my father? What if he is? I always thought Michael was like my dad and I'm…I'm like Mom, which, with the schizophrenia is bad enough, but if I'm like him…"
She studied him, finally realizing. "You're scared of hurting me. Like Brady hurt those women."
"They trusted him, Alex. My mom trusted him. He thought he loved her. But…"
With one movement, she set aside the file out of their sight, and then turned to face him, her eyes connecting with his, making him look at her. "You're not him. You're not her. You're Bobby. Don't do this, okay? Don't punish us both for something that could never happen. You would never hurt me. Everyone knows that."
"He loved her…and he raped her. He hurt her so bad that she never recovered, Alex. Ever."
She took a deep breath, her hand stroking his cheek. "You sat with me all night, Bobby, when I had Nathan…" She paused, that moment very painful in her history, although she never regretted giving her sister that child. "And when I was kidnapped. You've taken care of me for seven years." She always knew, regardless of what happened at work or in her private life, that he was there for her when she needed him. "We've taken care of each other. I know you, Bobby. As well or better than I know myself. I…"
Without thinking it through, Alex's words were silenced with a kiss, not one from out of their fantasies, but one of connection, of reassurance, and of love. "Alex…"
"Bobby…" Alex started to speak at the same time he did, but both quickly realizing there were no words to say. "You should get some sleep."
He kissed her again, the same gentleness as before, just needing to be connected with her. "Come with me." He never realized the words were there until they came out of his mouth, but was grateful that she didn't fight, didn't argue.
"Go take your shower. I'll clean up in here and join you, okay?" She stroked her hand through his graying curly hair, observing how tired she looked, before watching him go down the hall.
As she promised, she cleaned up after them and went back to the bedroom, stopping at his desk, looking at the two pictures on top, one of his mother in the sixties outfit, but another one, one of the two of them that had been taken at the Christmas party the year before. She'd never realized what they looked like together, like they had been together forever. She knew they had a better relationship, for a longer time, than most marriages, but she had never let herself think of their partnership in any other way. Still, she knew, looking back, that the day she had met him had been the luckiest day of her life. She didn't believe in soul mates, but if she did, she knew that Bobby would be hers.
The shower helped clear Bobby's mind of everything that had gone wrong in the past few days, the past few weeks, the past few years, and concentrate on the one thing that had gone right…Alex. He knew his feelings for her had more than the simple fact that she was his partner or he didn't want to be alone. He hadn't come into the partnership thinking that Alex was an easy mark, that he could have a casual affair with her just because they were partners. He never would have put their relationship at risk like that. They had evolved over years, from the point of her wanting to get as far away from him, to partners, to best friends, and lately he'd been thinking it was time that he admit what he'd known for three years. He loved Alex and he would be lost without her.
Alex found an old faded t-shirt in his closet and slipped it on, slipping the clothes she'd worn to the service off, putting her hair up. Bobby came out of the bathroom in the pajama bottoms and another t-shirt, not his usual bed attire, but making concessions for the night. His breath was caught in his throat as he saw Alex looking out the window. The shirt was long and large on her, but did nothing to hide her curves or the smooth silky skin of her legs, arms, and neck. He loved when she wore her hair up, allowing him to catch glimpses of her neck and her eyes, both that were usually at least partially covered by the sandy brunette strands.
She turned to face him once she realized he was in the room, both feeling caught off guard, like the suspect with one of Bobby's interrogation techniques. "I hope you don't mind," she said, indicating the shirt.
"No. No, I don't mind." Mind was not the word he would have used; he couldn't help but stare at her.
Knowing one of them had to make the first move, Alex lay down on the bed, on her side, facing the lamp, night table, and wall. Bobby slipped in behind her, gently wrapping his arm around her waist. Neither act seemed weird to either of them, more like they couldn't figure out what had taken them this long to end up in this position. As he smelled the familiar, light scent of peaches and vanilla, his eyes began to close, more tired than he could have ever imagined. He knew there were things they still needed to talk about, his mother's death, family revelations, his treatment of the case and of her, to an extent, and where, if anywhere, they were headed. Still, for the first time in the longest time, laying there with her, he found quiet, sanity, peace, all the things he'd been searching for and never even knew they could exist. Little by little, his eyes closed and he fell asleep, his even breathing bringing Alex to slumber close behind him.