Re-view
When Alex stepped back into the curtained area in Emergency, Bobby was alone. He was laying flat with his feet slightly elevated and the monitors, attached to the seemingly endless coils of wires, shared his inner life.
Beep, beep, beep.
They had moved a fan into position to circulate air across his body. His eyes remained closed, his cheeks still flushed. He was now clad in only a light sheet draped over him. They had placed ice packs in his arm pits and over his groin. She could just hear her brother's exclamations of feigned horror at that. She pulled the chair she'd used earlier close beside the bed and sat down facing him.
She hardly recognized him. In spite of the knot in her stomach, or perhaps to ease it with a distraction, she began studying the unguarded Robert Goren.
She'd only seen him completely relaxed a couple of times when he'd fallen asleep beside her in the car, during a long drive at the end of a case. The first time it had happened, she'd almost driven off the road in surprise. She had been so tempted to pull over and study him. He looked so vulnerable. In a strange way she was flattered that he would let his guard down so completely with her. She smiled gently at that memory. She wasn't sure how he'd react to knowing she'd been so fascinated.
She often noticed his long eyelashes, but they were more visible now against the delicate skin under his eyes. They were dark at the base, becoming sandy coloured and curled at the tips so the light had to be just right to see them. His normally expressive and active brow, which had become such a tell to her, was still and smooth. Her lips curved into another tiny smile, knowing his flattened matted hair would appal him if he was awake. Even with the grey, that very long stubble might look just a bit of okay with a little tending. Right now that stubble was close to being termed a beard and was almost as long as the hair above his ears. His prison haircut had stolen almost all signs of curls. She heaved a small sigh at that hair. No amount of time at a salon would ever give her hair like that. It just didn't seem fair. And the grey was so… so distinguished. It had crept in more noticeably over the last difficult year. When she first began working with him, the sprinkling of grey was merely an occasional glint if the light caught it just right.
She pulled her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms on top as she continued to study his face, memorizing each detail. As he had gained weight, the line from the corner of his eye across his cheek to his jaw line had become less pronounced. But with just the right expression, it would show again. She wasn't sure why that was so attractive. Somehow the whole package together could take her breath away. Maybe it was a combination of the look and the intellect.
She just knew that he was most amazing when he was in the middle of an animated interview and began his predatory dance. He would, in a split second, change any combination of physically ducking, weaving and bullying into mental intimidation, manipulation and disarming empathy as he re-assessed his strategy. No matter how long she partnered with him, she would never truly know where he was taking an interview unless he gave her some warning first. She had quickly learned to adapt to his dance – to be as mentally light on her feet as she could be, because he'd often need her to step briefly into that dance with perfect timing. So far, she didn't think she'd disappointed him. And she loved that she was the one who shared the dance with him. She was never bored and there was the "high" she would feel at the "gotcha" moment. It was addicting. It was the dance that kept her coming back.
Beep, beep, beep.
When Alex realized what she was doing, she stopped herself.
She didn't need to memorize Bobby's face or take a trip down memory lane. This was not the last time she would see him. This was not Joe. History could not repeat itself. She willed her thinning mask to rebuild, which comforted her, and she began noting details as a professional, not as… someone else.
She didn't need confirmation that he was dehydrated, she had seen his skin was dry, unable to sweat, and had retained its pucker when the doctor had pinched it.
Bruises were starting to show around his neck and there was a bad one across his right collarbone. Alex supposed that guards would perceive him as a threat just because of his size. Her eyes slid down to his wrists where the skin was torn and raw and some bruising was starting to appear. She stood, walked to the foot of the bed and lifted the edge of the sheet which draped him to uncover one of his ankles. The same thing. Where the skin wasn't red, it was bruised and ripped open. Her brows knit together in a frown as she gently replaced the sheet over his foot. Big foot. Bigfoot. That was one of the dangers of working with Robert Goren, you learned to start making random associations in the hope that one hits home and becomes a path to solving a puzzle. Of course, her leaps often tended towards the sarcastic and ironic observations.
She resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on his foot as she would have done to her nephew when he had boo-boos. Yes, Bobby had been roughly treated – and restrained. And he had struggled against those restraints. She put both hands up to rub her forehead and hide her face as she imagined what state he'd been in to get this way. It was almost beyond what she could imagine of the Robert Goren she knew. Only someone fighting hard would have these wounds. He could not control what happened to him in Tates – and this showed her he had been frightened and desperate. Oh, God! What had they done to him? Why had she let him go? She should have raised the alarm sooner. She should have known things were not good from the sound of his voice over the phone. She should have stopped it before it started.
Beep, beep, beep.
Think!
She didn't need to add an examination of his pelvis to know that everything she was seeing on Goren matched the markings on Jay Lowry, the young man whose body they'd examined in M.E. Rodger's morgue. It had been the confirmation they'd needed to convince them that something was seriously amiss at Tates.
Alex was wondering whether to call Rodgers for more of the autopsy details when one of the nurses pushed aside the privacy curtain and spoke to Alex.
"We're moving him up to ICU till he stabilizes." At least something is happening.
The nurse and an orderly fussed over the equipment for a minute preparing to move Goren's bed and then they were on their way to the elevator. Alex followed behind feeling helpless.
They left the bustle and constant noises of the ER for the hushed hallways of the third floor Intensive Care Unit. Her partner was rolled into a small glass fronted room where they re-hooked him to new monitors. They checked the ice packs surrounding him, noted his body temperature and one of them began setting up the fan.
It was so wrong to see someone so vital and animated lying so still. He had not responded to anything since he had moved his head at the sound of her voice. She clenched her teeth, but the bleeps of the monitors reassured her and she willed her jaw to relax. Alex stood at the foot of the bed looking at Goren, her arms crossed. It was not her usual crossed arm stance. These crossed arms were a self hug.
Beep, beep, beep.
The nurse leaned forward to look at Alex's face behind her swing of hair and smiled gently. "It's okay to touch him" she encouraged. Alex's eyes flicked up to the nurse's face, but she had no verbal reply to that. We don't touch.
"How is he?" Alex asked. She only wanted to know if the answer was positive.
"He's a bit cooler, but it looks like his kidneys still aren't working" she said, as her eyes dropped to the empty urine collection bag attached to the side of the bed. "The doctor will be in soon to give you more information. Just make yourself comfortable. The ladies' room is down the hall to your left. Are you hungry? I can probably find you a snack. There is a blanket in the cabinet here if you're cold. Is there anyone we can call for you?"
Alex replied she was fine and thanked the nurse. Food did not hold any attraction, but she did find a blanket and wrapped it around herself as she sat down in the nearby armchair. This would be her position for many hours to come.
Beep, beep, beep.