Note: There are some little details that I know that aren't correct (ex. Bobby's mother's name), so forgive me. As far as I know, these details haven't been mentioned anywhere in the show so to keep my sanity, I made some stuff up. Also I will probably end the story in the wrong places and thus have a crappy cliffhanger, but keep with me because I promise it gets good. J
Chapter One
It was an usual Monday morning at One Police Plaza. The Major Case office was filled with it's usual buzz of detectives rummaging through files and cases, bring suspects in and out, interviewing witnesses, and answering the no-stop ringing of phone calls. NYPD's two best detectives were no exception to their environment. Goren and Eames were sitting at their desks, busy going through case files, lab reports, and eyewitness statements. The smell of Chinese take-out and delivery pizza filled the unit, signifying that it was lunchtime. "Smells like lunch time," Bobby said aloud without looking up from his papers.
The words were caught by Alex's ears and she glanced up at Bobby. "Stopping for lunch is wishful thinking. Getting this work done wins yet again."
Bobby looked up at Alex with a grin on his face. Though he didn't want to believe it, she was right. With the numerous cases and the powers that be breathing down their necks, there wasn't enough time in the day to stop and have a nice relaxing lunch. Instead they were going to have to order out and inhale the food without taking the time to even taste what they were eating. "So what do you want to get for lunch," Bobby asked.
"From the choices of take-out, take-out or take-out, I think I'll pick take-out," Alex mockingly replied. She noticed a Pizza Hut delivery guy carrying a stack of five pizza boxes. She turned back to Bobby and said, "Actually I think I'll go follow him. Want me to grab you a slice?"
Bobby watched as the delivery guy was surrounded by a mob of hungry officers. "If there's any food left, sure. If there's any thing left of the delivery guy, give him a good tip." Alex smiled and got up from her desk. Bobby watched as she disappeared into the crowd.
He started to try and clear a space to put food down, moving files from one spot to another. With each manila folder he picked up, there were no vacancies opening. Picking up file after file until Bobby looked like a frustrated waiter in a busy restaurant, the desk still remained unchanged. Bobby's search was interrupted by the ringing of the phone buried somewhere under the debris of crime scene photos and paper clipped pages. Giving up with quest for room, he leaned forward and let gravity do its job. Bobby managed to dig through just in time to answer the phone on its fourth or fifth ring. "Goren."
"Hello, is this Mr. Robert Goren," asked a voice that sounded to a white, older man.
Bobby rolled his eyes a bit at the question, before answering it. Obviously if he wasn't Goren, then he probably wouldn't of said it when he answered the phone. How many Gorens are there in New York City that you could accidentally call? "Yes this is he," he replied.
"Mr. Goren, this is Chandler Green…"
Eames hand successfully came back both in one piece and with food. She laid her food in front of her and had the same difficulty in finding a place on Bobby's desk for his slice. Finally she just let it drop where there was the least amount of papers.
"…from Kommau-Rich Center. I'm calling about your mother, Emily Goren…"
Bobby was use to getting phone calls about his mother. They calls were usually to inform him that her therapy was changing, she attacked one of the nurses, or she was refusing yet again to take her medication.
"…I'm afraid that I have to tell you some terrible news…"
Bobby figured that his mom finally attacked one nurse to many and now they were kicking her out of the center.
"…This morning, you mother's attending nurse…" This will be the third attack on this nurse within the past 4 months, he thought.
"…was called on to get your mother out of her room after having locked herself in…"
The fifth time this month alone for that.
"…When there was no response, so we called the orderlies to open the door…"
Nothing new there.
"…I'm sorry to have to tell you this Mr. Goren but they found your mother dead."
Shock struck Bobby, like lightening hitting a tree. A sense of disbelief flooded his mind. Dead? No. She couldn't be dead. I must have heard him wrong. The disbelief moved from his brain to his throat as a staggering "What?" escaped over his lips and into the phone.
The listening ears on the other end of the phone line caught the single word question that came from Bobby's mouth and replied, "You mother killed herself. She committed suicide."
He had heard him right.
"H-how?"
"I think it's best not discuss the details over the phone. I ask that you come up here as soon as you can. I am truly sorry for you lose Mr. Goren," Green said.
Without speaking another word, Bobby hung up the phone. He stared out into space and fell into in a numb daze. A million thoughts and memories filled his head all at once. Memories of his childhood were projected like an old home video. He watch himself a little kid, crying because his brother had shot him in the eye with a toy gun. He watched as his mother wrapped her arms around him and slowly comforted him in her gentle, loving grip. Watched as she smiled and watched her husband and sons wrestling around in the living room. Watched as she kissed little Bobby on the forehead and tucked him into bed. He watched her before it all happened. Before the illness took over. Before her psyche was shattered like glass into pieces. He watched himself when he was seven, hiding in the closet, frightened because there was something wrong with mommy. Clips flashed as he watched her talking out loud to voices that didn't exist. Watched as she spoke sentences that didn't make any sense. Watched as she would look out the window for dangerous people that weren't there.
Though all of it, Bobby still loved her. His love for her kept him calling her everyday and taking the drive up to the center to see her. What Bobby hated was the schizophrenia. He hated how it robbed his beloved mother of her sanity. Robbed her from living a normal life. Now what he hated the most had robbed her of her life.
A small, familiar voice broke through to Bobby. Alex had been sitting at her desk, balancing work and food, but stopped when she heard the meek questions from Bobby's mouth to someone on the other end of the phone conversation. She had been watching Bobby, with his head down and eyes staring, since he had hung up the phone. She had been waiting for him to move or show some kind of sign he was still conscious. Something happened she thought. Something bad. She was a little nervous to ask at first, but then managed to ask him, "What's wrong? What happened?"
She's gone. She's gone and never coming back. That's what's wrong. That's what happened. He wanted to tell Alex what happened, but it was his problem. It was something that he had to deal with, alone.
"I…I have to go," he replied, without moving. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He didn't want her to see the pain on his face. In the next second he got up from his desk, head still down, and went for the elevators. As quick as he said it, was as quick as he was gone.
TBC...
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