Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I don't own anything. This is written for pure enjoyment only and no profit to be gained!

A/N: Ok, so for the time frame, picture this happening the same time as when Alex first got home. I was going to switch back and forth more, but some chapters were like 200 words, so I changed it and added more to the last chapter. Does that make sense? LOL

Note: Bobby's POV.

CHAPTER: 3

Bobby knew he'd made a mistake; almost immediately after he said it in fact. In front of the whole squad room no less.

Fuck.

Fire me. Fire me? What the fuck was I thinking? My work is all I have. I can't blame anyone but myself for this one. I guess it was only a matter of time anyway.

The funny thing was Bobby didn't regret it. Any of it. He just doesn't quite care either way right now. He's not allowed to care about work, because he has other things, other priorities to worry about.

He entered his apartment in almost a program-like state. He was on auto-pilot. He'd had little if any sleep in the past week, but he knew it was only an excuse. All of his reasons were just excuses. He couldn't sleep even if he tried, so what was the point? Anytime he was on the verge of sleep his phone would ring. Most of the time, it was his mother.

Too many things to do. Too much on my mind.

So much to do.

Where did all the time go?

So many things to think about.

Is it over yet?

He knew he should go see his mother, but he just fucking couldn't. He needed to sleep, he needed to be alone, and he needed this to be over. He needed to be away from her and he needed time to himself. He needed to think and sulk in his own misery.

He knew, he just fucking knew his mother was going be the death of him sooner or later.

Unless I do something about it.

But he knew there was nothing to do, because he was the only one who could take care of her. But for now…

Alone.

He needed the silence. Just for now he needed to be away from it all.

"Alone." He murmured to himself and then snorted at the thought. The word lingered in they air as he allowed his body to shake at how quiet his apartment was. The word, alone, it echoed in his apartment; like it was mocking him. "Alone and away from everyone and everything." He hissed.

Truth was Bobby was bitter. He despised his mother for the life she'd given him. He didn't ask for it, he didn't ask for anything of this. He'd been taking care of her all his life and for what? To be treated like shit?

Some life...if I so dare to even call it that.

But he chose to do it. He knows that and he's taken full responsibility for it, for her.

We all make choices, and I've made mine.

He didn't bother to lock his apartment, he didn't care.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the top shelf of his refrigerator. He hoped it would take the edge off, he hoped it would make him tired. He needed to be numb for a little bit.

Just for a little while.

He staggered over to his couch, set his beer down briefly and took his coat off; not before digging into his pocket for his cell phone and badge. He dropped them both on the table in disgust as well as his holster after he unclipped it from his belt. After pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, he plopped down hard onto his worn black leather couch. He grabbed his beer, opened it and took a long drink.

Nothing like a cheap beer… He mused. But then why did I pay for bottled beer? Can is cheaper and yet I grabbed two six-packs of bottled… He asked himself but then shook his head. God, now I'm thinking about what kind of beer I drink?

He set it down again and began to unbutton his shirt to get a bit more comfortable. He couldn't help but look down at his badge and gun on the table in front of him. After successfully unbuttoning his shirt completely, he took it off so he was only in his dark brown t-shirt. The cold air from his apartment hit his bare forearms and he uncontrollable shivered but ignored it and reached for his beer once again.

Not a minute later, he was deep in thought. He couldn't stop nor control his thoughts; they ranged from work, to his mother and brother, to his life and the 'what ifs' of it all, to even Alex.

"Alex…" He whispered the name, her name, but it too was swallowed up by the silence. So, he said it again, a little louder. "Alex."

Bobby couldn't help but wince every time his thoughts were of her.

Alex. She's gone for sure now. And I only have myself to blame.

Not ten minutes later he found himself digging through his refrigerator to retrieve another beer. As the time passed, Bobby seemed to be spending more time walking back and forth from his couch to his kitchen to get another beer, than anything else.

Eight beers later and what seemed to be miles of pacing, he felt a little better.

But still not enough. He mused as he reached for his ninth. Maybe I'll finish both six-packs.

On the way home, Bobby turned his phone on vibrate. He was sick of those calls. He didn't want to care for tonight. He needed a few hours away from her. Away from those goddamn, fucking lunatic calls. How fucked up they were.

There are doctors there to watch over her. If she needs someone so bad, she can call Frank.

Even if he would've seen his phone vibrate, even if he would've seen that Alex was the one calling him, he wouldn't have answered anyway. This was his time.

Or so he thought.

The numbness was starting to sink in as he sat back down on his couch yet again with his feet propped up, but it wasn't the numb he was searching for. He had successfully gotten himself buzzed. He knew he was well above the limit, he has a high tolerance to begin with and he's a big guy, but, unfortunately his mind was still working for the most part. He wasn't processing things as well as he normally did, but the memories of everything were still there plain as day. It was at that moment that he realized they were never going to leave him.

Fuck.

He was fading in and out, he was deeply hating everything about the world, and he was waiting for something. His evil mind haunted him, however. He was waiting for the peace to begin but it never came. He continued to be haunted by his past. Memories of his childhood suddenly resurfaced and he began to hate himself in return. He began to hate who he stood for. His mother, Frank, his abusive father, everything and everyone for the rest of his life would continue to haunt him.

Really, what am I good for?

He tilted his head down to look at his left shoulder. He reached up with his right hand and raised his left sleeve up so that his shoulder was showing. He rubbed it, it was barely noticeable now, but it was still there.

A burn mark from his father.

Well, apparently I'm good for an ash tray…

He remembered back to how it happened; he felt as though it happened only a few hours ago. His father burned him with a cigarette. He put the cigarette out on Bobby. He remembered how hard he cried because of the pain and then being slapped across the face for crying. He was young, so young and he didn't understand what he did wrong. He let go of his shirt so his sleeve fell back in place.

I just want to disappear… Just for a little while. I can't do this anymore. I've done the best I can…

He was sick of sacrificing. He was sick of reliving his life through other people, through other horrific cases. He was sick of the horrible nightmares he had. He wanted them to just stop. He just wanted some peace in his life. Some happiness. Was that so much to ask? Was that even possible for a man like him?

Is it over yet?

He clumsily stumbled off his couch and made his way over to his refrigerator to grab yet another beer. He closed the refrigerator door, stood up lopsided and not quite himself. He then began to stare at it. His eyes darkened like they did when he interrogated a suspect at 1PP. Not a second later he threw the bottle against the wall where it shattered into a million pieces.

Then he cried. About so many things. But mainly, Bobby Goren cried for himself.

Sorry son-of-a-bitch I am…

He hated showing emotion especially that of sorrow even if it was only in front of himself, but he didn't try and stop himself like so many other times.

I'm allowed to cry. I'm only human for god's sake.

Bobby didn't bother to clean up the mess. He didn't care. He knew that, too; that he was allowed to not care.

Sigh.

He continued to allow himself the comfort of crying as he watched the cool amber liquid from his cheep, distasteful beer seep down the wall and onto his floor. He carefully examined its contents briefly. He even tilted his head to one side as he watched it drip down and pool around the broken glass. He thought about changing to scotch, upping the ante, but turned around suddenly and walked away from it all.

It's what I'm good at. Walking away from things.

Bobby started to make his way back to the couch when he paused mid-step. His eyes caught sight of his Glock lying on the table.

Not again.

He started to move once more towards it, his eyes never leaving it, but he didn't quite make it. He fell a few feet short and crumbled to the floor instead. It wasn't due to his alcohol intake. It was due to all the pain he was feeling. This type of pain wasn't physical, it was emotional. It was the pain of not knowing what to do and not having anyone to turn to. He truly felt lost.

"I just want it to be over…" He mumbled.

He'd yearned, for most of his life now, to have someone with him. To have someone to hold him when he needed to be held and to have someone he could confide in and trust, but he never found such a person. He'd thought of Alex, on many occasions in fact, but he knew she didn't want nor need his burdens; she couldn't possibly hold them all in anyway. There were so many nights where he'd lay in bed and wish for someone to be with him. He even began to picture someone, usually Alex, with her arms wrapped around him. That never happened though; it was just a sick trick his mind would play on him. Funny thing was, sometimes it worked. Sometimes imaging her with him worked, but he knew it would never happen.

"Never…"

He convinced himself of it that long ago. So, he continued to yearn and only hope that someday, something magical would happen. And that's all he really had; that was the only hope he had. That's all he held onto: a miracle.

Someday…

Someday maybe I'll do it, maybe I'll kill myself. Or maybe someday someone will come around. Someone who can…

And then he stopped himself because he knew he didn't want anyone to care for him. He didn't feel he deserved that someone special. He was too fucked up; his life was too fucked up to allow anyone to enter. He didn't want to hurt anyone; he didn't want anyone to feel what he was feeling.

So… He mused. I will be alone for the rest of my life.

And that thought scared him even further. He wanted someone, but wouldn't allow anyone in.

It's over. My hope is gone.

He'd recently thought of suicide, many times in fact. He wouldn't deny that to himself. In fact, just seconds ago he'd thought about it again when he saw his gun lying there. It seemed to be calling his name. But just like every other time he'd contemplated, his thoughts travelled to Alex.

I can't leave her; not yet anyway. Not yet…just a while longer…but not yet. If only for her, I have to continue on. She'd think it was her fault, somehow or another she would and I can't let her think that because its not. Nothing has ever been her fault. Just wait, wait awhile. Perhaps we'll become distant, she'll transfer out of Major Case and then, then I can do it… I can finally pull the trigger and end it all.

He felt so lost. Like he knew it was coming, he just wasn't sure when.

Until the end, Alex, until the end.

Bobby knew he needed more than a partner right now, he needed a friend. Someone to confide in, someone to tell him it would be okay even if it wouldn't be. He'd thought about Alex, about calling her and pleading with her to come over, but he immediately pushed the idea down. He buried it deep down where it could never be retrieved.

I know I hurt her…and it was the last thing I wanted to do, but I know… I could tell by the way she acted after I told her to just 'back off.' The look on her face when I turned around in the elevator was enough to almost make me push the elevator doors open and envelope her in my arms and beg her for forgiveness. But I couldn't… She'd smack me for sure, call me a pig, and then request a new partner; one that wasn't crazy…one that wasn't a whack job.

His muse was interrupted when he heard his phone vibrate for the first time, though it had been all along. He titled his head up to look at the table in which the phone was vibrating on, noting his gun once more, and then slammed his head, hard, back on the ground.

Leave. Me. Alone.

He didn't even bother to reach for it.

Too much energy. Too much work. Just want to go away…

He ignored it, never realizing who it was. He figured it was his mother or the impossible, his brother. No one else would call him. And those two options were the two people he wanted to speak to the least. Those were the two people he wanted to ignore the most. It was neither though. It was Alex whom was on her way over to his place, only a few minutes away in fact. He obviously didn't know that though and continued to cry, sprawled out on his cold floor, too weak to attempt to get up.

So, he did the only thing he could do, he let his thoughts run wild yet again.

Some Thanksgiving, eh Bobby? You get to deal with your sick mother while other people spend the day with their families. Oh wait, until the fucking case that is because that was so much better!

His musing continued as he lied on his floor. His tears still flowed, but he didn't attempt to wipe them away. He stared up at his ceiling wondering what else there was for him in this life. What else could he do?

I don't know how to do anything but this… I'm useless in any other area. But being a detective, it's what I love. It lets me solve puzzles, it gets my mind working. It's hell, getting into a criminals mind, it's a dangerous place to be, but it's my job and I love it. Or, at least I used to.

"I'm such a waste. No one will want me." He murmured to himself. Right after he said it, there was a knock on his door.

Bobby ignored it. He didn't care who it was. He immediately assumed it wasn't for him anyway. He never had visitors. No one ever knocked on his door, not on purpose anyway.

Wrong door, idiot.

And then there was a voice that called to him from the other side of the door. He knew who it was and his body froze.

Great, now I'm hearing things. I'm hearing Alex…

"Alex…" He said her name again. Just to hear it.

"Bobby?" She called out. She began to pound on his door lightly at first, but her pounding only grew more desperate as the minutes passed. "Open the damn door, Bobby!" She began to panic.

He wasn't sure if she sounded scared or angry; or possibly both.

He didn't though. He didn't panic nor open the door. He couldn't. He couldn't get up. The room was spinning and he was still angry. He still hated himself as well as the rest of the world and he still wanted to grieve.

I'm not done grieving here, do you mind?! He thought and not soon after, an evil grin appeared on his face. He quickly rubbed his hand over his face and any trace of his grin was gone. He didn't even know what he was grinning about to begin with. It seemed humorous at the time, but not a second later, he realized how down right sad it was. No, I'm sad. I'm pathetic. Look at me. He tried to raise his head to get a better look at himself, but he gave up. Whatever, whatever, fuck it, whatever. I don't want to see myself anyway.

He couldn't even hold himself together, how was he supposed to compose himself and let her in?

The irony of it all was the he wasn't even sure what all he was grieving about. He wasn't even sure what all he was angry about. There were too many things on the list and although Bobby was never a fan of lists, he wondered what this list would look like.

How many pages would it be? What would it entitle? Who would be on it? Who…cares!?

He felt as though his body was decaying from all the hell he'd held within him. It was finally breaking him down into nothing. He felt sorry for himself, that much he was aware of. He had more or less successfully dealt with his life since he was a child on his own. Why should now be any different?

Because now it's affecting my work…and work is the only other thing I have besides my mom.

His mom.

Some mom. She's made my life a living hell. I really don't have anyone, do I?

He closed his eyes, trying to block out Alex's calls to him.

Is it over yet? His brain kept repeating. Over, over, over!

He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to forget, but then as he quieted his musings and listened, he no longer heard her.

Don't leave me here… God, Alex, don't leave me here by myself!

He found himself unable to breath. He felt a familiar terror run through his body as his apartment went silent once again.

The pounding, the knocking coming from Alex ceased and he thought his heart ceased to beat as well.

He wanted to run to the door, but he couldn't force himself to get up. So, he just laid there. He rolled completely on his back only wishing that he'd throw up and choke on his own vomit.

A/N: More to come! Sorry if this is too depressing for you. Seriously, I'm just a depressing person. It's what I know.

On another note, who saw tonight's episode, "Faithfully?" Wow! Ok, so, wait: Spoilers below!

So some people have been saying that that kid, his niece, is actually Bobby's daughter. Wow, what do you all think of that theory? I'm kind of curious now and a little bit freaked out about it as well. *Sighs*

-Snyder-