A/N and Disclaimer - I just caught up on season 8 yesterday, so I'm just FULL of fanfiction ideas. Who knows how many will actually turn into real stories, but be on the lookout. This is set during Identity Crisis, and that's where all the quotes (in bold) are from. I didn't make them up. I'm not that good. I thought it was great seeing all the parallels to Bobby's life though, so this what I came up with for what he may have been thinking. Everything in italics and not bold is his thoughts. I hope it's not confusing. Let me know if you have a better idea for formatting. Song in description belongs to Joni Mitchell.
He heard the voices now.
They spoke to him, coming from every direction, almost constantly.
No, not those voices. Those voices hadn't come...yet.
These voices were all too real. These were the voices in every victim's story, and sometimes straight from the bad guys. These voices told him things about his life that no one else could possibly know. They narrated every childhood scene, mimicked every unsteady thought he'd ever had. These were the voices that kept him up at night and made it impossible for anyone to get too close. They mocked him, antagonized him, scared the crap out of him. They showed him everything he could be some day and everything he tried not to become. These voices could not be drowned out by denial, reckless abandon or even by Eames. These voices haunted him.
"He was damaged goods."
"What do you mean?" Goren's tone was instantly defensive. She had no right talking about him that way. So what if it was the truth. Oh right, this wasn't about him. It was about Gray Vanderhoven. He tried to remember that.
"I mean, he wasn't a bad guy. He just couldn't hold anything together."
'Sure I can.' He insisted silently. 'I'm fine. Right?' I'm holding things together. I know it doesn't always look like it, but...
"I guess he never had anyone else. I mean, he never really had a home, and his mother was, you know, a schizo"
'Don't talk like that about my mother!' Bobby knew she was right about that one though. He'd never had a real home in his life, and he mother was never like other mothers. It was just the cold, hard truth. The very hard truth.
"When you're first with a guy, there's usually something he says or something he does that raises a flag. I'm just asking if there was anything that made you ask yourself, 'Is he okay?' Maybe something little that didn't seem to matter."
Eames didn't know that I heard her ask that question. She didn't know that I heard that hint of uncertainty and knowing in her voice. She's been there. You had those thoughts about me when we first started out, didn't you, Eames? I don't blame you. Everyone has them, I'm used to it by now. Do you still have them? That wouldn't surprise me either.
"My mother was schizophrenic. There's no solution in that."
Sometimes, when his mom was having a good day, if he wasn't careful, he would let hope creep in. It felt like being a kid again when he allowed a little hope in for a sweet moment. Then he remembered: it was false hope that he had, that some people have of a cure for the madness. The longing to believe in and cling to that hope, that ignorance and wishful thinking. But there was no cure and that was that.
"Which was more painful? Her death or his betrayal?"
At least he knew saw her death coming. He had been waiting for it. But not his brother's. He wasn't supposed to die like that. Frank. It hurt to even think his name. Bobby had failed as a son, and then as a brother to Frank. 'Just add it to the list', he thought bitterly. 'I never could get anything right, and neither of them let me forget it.' Why didn't I try harder? Because Frank didn't deserve my help, the other side of him would argue. He was a good for nothing drug addict who didn't even bother to come to your mother's funeral. At least their mom cared when she was lucid. She loved him then. Frank though? He never cared.
"It's history. Who cares?"
"You should care, It's made you who you are"
'But I do. I should.' Half of his heart screamed. If it weren't for Frank, you would've been dead before you even learned to drive. He protected you, and what do you do in return? Banish him from your life. You would be nothing without your brother. He is why you are still here. Even his mistakes shaped you. His mistakes pushed you in the opposite direction and drove you to become the cop and man you are today. Why didn't you see that?
"He was part of someone I no longer wanted to be, okay? That's why I avoided him.
Because I was afraid. I was afraid if I helped him, he'd think I was condoning his behavior, and I didn't want that! I didn't want any part of his drug abuse, his neglect of my mother or his direction-less wandering. If I had let him in, he would've pulled me back to my old ways of living a pointless life. But another side pulled at Bobby, saying, 'He loved you. He sure had a crappy way of showing it, but he would've been mooching off of you, calling you to bail him out at every turn, dragging you down, or even blaming you a long time ago if he didn't care at all. He didn't want you to be sucked into the deep pit he had fallen into. He wanted you to live your life, be happy and not worry about him. Don't you see it now?
'I see it.'
"So you don't think he got back into your life to destroy what you'd become?"
No, he knew that now. Frank wouldn't - couldn't destroy him, because he wasn't much to begin with. A single, half crazy man married to his job, but in love with a woman who could run at any time. Big whoop. But still, through everything Bobby was and was not, Frank never gave up on him. That thought hurt Bobby, and he tried to quiet that new voice, telling him of his brother's love, but that voice would not be silenced. It whispered insistently, "He loved you. Your brother loved you. Why couldn't you show him that you loved him too?"
"Listen, your little psycho chatter babble isnt working alright?"
Bobby fought back against the demon in his head. He knew how Frank was. He knew how to love even less than Bobby did. He had tried to kick his bad habits. He was in and out of rehab too many times to count, and that was before Bobby cut all ties with him, back in his early twenties. And still, Frank was dead. Granted, it was Nicole's doing, but if Bobby was honest, it was a long time coming, no matter the way to eventually came. Frank was weak.
"That's what what he's become? Tyranny of the weak? Isn't he all you had in the world? When the two of you were little boys, comforting each other from that nightmare of a mother? These photos, I think you're teaching him how to swim. He trusts you. Did he still trust you like that?
That picture of the Vanderhoven brothers could easily have been of the Goren brothers. In fact, Bobby thought there was one eerily similar somewhere buried in a box with other forgotten memories. It hit him then, though he didn't let on - he was absolutely alone in the world. Not just the feeling of being alone that he'd had for so long. This time Bobby thought it was for real. The more he swung at the people around him - the authority figures he didn't respect and the criminals he despised or anyone within reach - the more Eames inched backwards to avoid getting hit. But Frank, he wasn't afraid of Bobby or what he was capable of. He never was. Even when Bobby had confronted him, Frank had not fought back, hadn't defended himself. He knew Bobby's past and trusted him, because that's what brother's did.
"I don't think he came back to destroy your life. I think he came back for atonement. For forgiveness for what he'd done to you...he trusted you. He loved you. I think that's why he came back - to ask for that forgiveness."
He wanted to be my brother. He wanted me to be a brother to him. He wanted me to forgive him for his many shortcomings and to leave the past behind us. Why? Why would he expect that? He didn't, I realize. He didn't think I would forgive him, but he was willing to try, because I was family. His only family. My only family, my brother, Frank Goren, loved me
He loved me.
And did you feel that? Before you...
Before I disowned him? Before I turned my back and hardened my heart to him? Back when we were kids, just trying to survive until it was time to get the heck out of there and never look back? When he would literally stand between me and the danger that was our mother, and receive a beating because she thought we were monsters? When he wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulders because I was afraid of the dark surrounding us in that locked closet? When he saw me on the street with Eames and hesitated to say hello because he didn't want to interfere with my life, but his desire for a connection with me prompted him to say something? When he introduced me to his son, my nephew, because he knew I would want to know him? He didn't have to do any of that, but he did. Did I feel his love then?
Yes
Yes.
