A/N- This might be the last chapter for a while; I'm going east for the next few weeks. Enjoy this next chapter :)

Disclaimer- Any of the characters you recognize from Law and Order: Criminal Intent, aren't mine.

Chapter 3

Bobby knew it would be bad, but what met his eyes was about one of the worst things he had ever seen. And he knew for sure, that her chances couldn't be good. Not when she looked this bad. Her hair had been shaved off on the right side of her head. A huge bandage was covering just behind her temple, all the way to the back of her head. Tubes were taped to her mouth, surely going down her throat, and he could see a balloon filling with air, and emptying with a huge gasp. Her face was pale as death. An I.V was in her arm, and various bags hung from the pole. Wires snaked in her hospital gown. He could see that her hands were clammy. Monitors beeped and hummed, but couldn't compare to the air that sounded oddly like a machine gasping for breath. It was the machine that kept her alive. She couldn't even breathe; the machine was doing it for her.

But there was one thing that was worse than all the others. Her eyes were taped shut. How many times had he stared into those eyes, and sensed how she was feeling immediately? He had seen sympathy, understanding, amusement, annoyance, and, though only once, fear. Sometimes he thought he had seen something more than happiness, when they talked, when they knew what the other was thinking, when he caught her looking at him and she didn't know it yet, and when they were laughing. He especially loved her eyes when she was laughing. And now her eyes were taped shut.

Mr. Eames was now holding Mrs. Eames up again. He was staring at his daughter in open-mouthed horror. Bobby stared around him; he wished he were somewhere, anywhere else. Not looking at Alex, wasting away behind taped eyes.

The doctor came in and whispered quietly what some of the machines were doing. Monitoring her vitals, the IV, a blood transfusion, breathing…

"Why did you tape her eyes shut?" Bobby whispered the question.

"For two reasons," doctor Marshall said. "So that the light won't disturb her and she can focus completely on getting better," he said. "And because when a patient opens their eyes, it gives the family and friends false hope," he whispered.


Bobby was at home, changing his shirt. He yanked at the arms, and dropped the shirt on the ground. He started to wash the blood off his hands. He felt like a murderer.

He changed his pants and pulled on a clean shirt. He fixed the cuffs of the sleeves automatically. He looked in the mirror to fix the collar, and saw his reflection. His face was pale and drawn. He closed his eyes against his reflection.

Behind his eyelids, he could see Alex. She was laughing, her brown eyes sparkling. Then suddenly the image changed, and her eyes were taped shut. Tubes and wires were running and attaching to her body. Her face was pale, paler than his. He flashed his eyes open, but he couldn't send the image away. Sobbing, he threw himself down on the ground and wept for all that was lost, all that was his strength, his soul, his heart. All that was his Alex.


Bobby sat, holding Alex's hand, and staring at her blank face. Doctor Marshall had said that coma patients sometimes remembered everything people had said to them. "Hey Alex," he whispered. "It's me, Bobby." He didn't know why he was whispering, he just was. "We're looking for McKellen now," he said. "Trust me, I will lock the S.O.B. up and throw away the key," he told her.

He suddenly had the urge to cry, and even though he knew it was stupid he didn't want her to hear him cry. He walked into the hallway, and looked both ways. No one was there. He started to sob, and he leaned against the wall and slowly lowered himself into a sitting position on the floor.

"It's hard seeing them like that, isn't it?" a voice asked and Bobby looked up to see a girl that was about 14 looking down at him with sympathy in her bright blue eyes. "Who're you?" he asked, standing up. "I'm Sally-Jean Randall," she said. "And you were just in there with Detective Alexandra Eames," she stated. "She's not married, and there's no family resemblance between the two of you, so you must be her partner," she said. "Pleased to meet you detective." "And it does get easier," she said. Bobby stared at her, his mouth hanging open.

"Right, you think I'm a stalker," she muttered. "I come in and visit the patients, and I get, uh, a little personally invested in the lives of coma patients," she said. "I read the report, and you were there when she was shot." "This does not make it your fault," she said.

He stared at her. The only other person he knew that was as observant and, well, good at putting 2 and 2 together like that was himself. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Bobby," he said.

"Right then Bobby, you want to talk about it?" she asked. He didn't know why, but he felt like he could trust this girl. He also thought she looked vaguely familiar, but he didn't know where he'd seen her before.

"What if she dies?" he voiced the question that scared him the most.

"She's not gonna die," Sally-Jean said with certainty. Bobby smiled slightly at her.

She glared at him. "Don't smirk at me," she snapped, reminding him so much of Alex he could have cried right there. "I know she's not," Sally-Jean said.

"It's nice to think that, but how can you know?" Bobby asked.

"I'm 14, don't talk to me like I'm a kid," she snapped. "And I know because she got shot in the freakin' head and managed to stay alive," she said. "And if that's not an example of a fighter, I'll eat my dog for lunch," she said.

"Sally-Jean Randall, you have got to be one of the strangest people I've ever met," Bobby said. "Bobby your-last-name-here, people tell me that a lot," she said.

"Goren," he said.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"My last name is Goren," he said.

"Bobby Goren, you and me are gonna walk into room 310, and we aren't going to leave until you give her a proper good-bye," she said.

He looked at her. "I can't go in there," he muttered.

"Fine," she snapped. She walked back into the room.

"Alex," he heard her say. "Bobby Goren left in a hurry, I know." "But I'm sure he'll be back," Sally-Jean said. "He loves you too much to leave you alone for too long," she said.

Yes, Bobby thought, I love her too much.

Bobby turned and walked to the cafeteria to have a coffee and calm down before going back into Alex's room.


"Guess what?" Bobby heard Sally-Jean say as he approached Alex's room. "Bobby's back," she said. "I told ya."

Bobby walked in, surprised.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked.

"I can tell from the way you walk," she answered. "It was your footsteps."

Sally-Jean walked out of the room. "I knew you'd come back," Sally-Jean said, and flashed him a smile.

"You know me too well, and we only just met," he said. His easy smile left his face the moment he entered room 310. The machine was still making a lot of noise, as it gasped for air. Her face was still deathly pale and horribly blank. He stood in the doorway and stared at her, feeling the helplessness creep in again.

"She won't bite you know," Sally-Jean said, walking up to the bed and touching her hand.

Bobby walked over and picked up her hand. "I'll leave now," Sally-Jean said. She walked out the door, and turned down the hall. Bobby was amazed that she knew just how much to push him, and when to leave.

"Hey Alex," Bobby whispered. "I'm sorry I left like that earlier," he said. "I just didn't know what to do, you being like this," he said. "You need to get better Alex," he said. "Please," he said, nearly crying now. "I need you to come back to me."

Bobby jumped out of his skin and nearly yelped in surprise as his cell phone vibrated. The captain had sent him a text message. Three words were written on the screen. "Alex," he whispered. "I've got to go." "We got him."

I tried to write a long chapter to make up for the time I won't be able to update. Please review!!!