Black Ice: Ch. 4
By: The Confused One
A/N:
Deakins sat at his kitchen table, again, staring at the phone. Bobby still wasn't answering. Deakins wasn't sure if that meant Bobby wasn't awake, ignoring the phone or something had happened. When he heard someone walk into the kitchen, he looked up to see Angie.
Instantly seeing something was wrong, Angie walked to him. Concerned, she asked, "Jimmy, what's wrong? You've been crying. What happened?"
Closing his eyes, he choked out, "One…of my detectives died last night."
Shocked, Angie sat down next to him. Watching him, she assumed it happened in the line of duty. Reaching out, she took his hand and asked, "Who was it? What happened, Jimmy?"
Deakins sighed, sadly. He quietly replied, "Eames. Alex Eames. There was a car wreck."
Momentarily putting her hand to her mouth, Angie closed her eyes. She knew Alex. She liked Alex. Angie took Deakins into her arms. Holding him, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I'm so sorry."
Letting Angie hold him, Deakins added, "It just doesn't feel real. She was a good woman, Angie. Kept Goren in line. She was what he needed. He fell apart last night when I told him. I had to tell him. They really loved each other."
Finally pulling away from him, Angie asked, "Where is Bobby now?"
Swallowing hard, Deakins answered, "I'm not sure. He went to Alex's after…he went to the crash site."
Shocked, Angie was indignant. She demanded, "You let him go out there to her place alone?"
With a frustrated sigh, Deakins ignored her tone. "I-I need to go check on him. He's not answering his phone."
Stopping him, Angie didn't let him get up. She asked, "We're over an hour away from her place. Is there someone closer who could check on him?"
Deakins closed his eyes and thought about it for a moment. "Uh, Yeah. Yeah, Logan. Mike Logan is closer."
With a nod, Angie suggested, "OK. Call him. Then you have to get ready. You still have a squad to run."
With a nod, Deakins reached for the phone again. He felt so numb. He had been OK till he had looked at the car, till he had seen exactly how Alex died. Now he was struggling. He could only imagine how Bobby felt. Dialing Mike's number, it occurred to Deakins that he needed Mike to find out if Bobby ever called Alex's family.
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Bobby stared at the ceiling all night. His mind never strayed from her. He remembered their last night in her bed with excruciating detail and clarity. He desperately wanted her there. He wanted to feel her warm body against his. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her. He needed the peace of having her there. The memories always gave way to more tears, and there was no sleep. He wasn't sure he'd ever sleep again. He lost track of time, and watched the sunrise from her side of the bed.
He didn't dare move. Getting up made it real. Lying there, he could pretend she was in the bathroom, the kitchen, or any other room in the house. Lying there he could pretend she was alive, and it didn't hurt quite as much.
He heard the phone ringing, again. Continuing to ignore it, like he was the dog, he remembered the first dinner he and Alex had in her place as a couple. He remembered the candles and how her face glowed in the flickering light. Closing his eyes, he heard her voice again, as the answering machine picked up.
He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't hear her voice…haunting him, ripping his heart into shreds. Dragging himself out of bed, he made his way into the den. He suddenly stopped. It wasn't Deakins. It was Mike this time. Ignoring what he was saying, Bobby pulled the plug on the answering machine. Collapsing onto the couch, Bobby put his face in his hands and sobbed again.
Twenty minutes later, Bobby still sat in that position. He couldn't bring himself to move. He could barely breathe. It felt like the grief was suffocating him. There was so much pain. He could feel nothing but the pain. The banging on the door brought Bobby out of his thoughts. Jumping slightly, he looked up at the front door. There was more banging. Bobby glared at Milo as he barked.
With a frustrated sigh, Mike banged again. "Bobby!" After a moment, he tried again, "Bobby, I know you're in there! Look, Deakins called. I-I know what happened. Let me in and talk to me."
Closing his eyes, Bobby yelled back, "Go home, Mike! I want to be alone. I need to be alone."
Pissed off, Mike wasn't about to let Bobby get away with that. "Damn it, Goren! Let me in, or I'm going to bust the door in. You're not staying in there."
Bobby closed his eyes again. Lowering his voice, he replied, "I know that, Mike. I…know. I'm not going to stay forever. I just…need some space. I need to be here and alone right now."
With another sigh, Mike had enough. Angrily kicking the door in with one fell swoop, he marched into the den. Meeting Bobby's rage-filled eyes, Mike insisted, "No! Don't even start. You stewed here alone all night. You're not doing it any longer. You need to get out of here."
Bobby didn't notice Milo go running back into the bedroom to hide. Unsure of where exactly the rage was coming from, Bobby decided he didn't care. He held onto it for dear life. It was the only other emotion besides the emptiness and the soul-sucking, stomach churning pain. At least the rage wasn't debilitating. He bitterly spat, "You broke the damn door, Logan! I told you to go. I'm not leaving."
Rubbing his face with his hand, Mike closed his eyes. Ignoring Bobby's fury, Mike met his eyes. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I loved her too. I'm going to miss her."
Swallowing hard, Bobby clung to the anger. Ignoring Mike's tone, Bobby yelled, "I said go, Mike. Leave! I'm not talking right now, and you're not staying. But I have to stay right now." He couldn't stop now. He couldn't lose the anger. If he did that, then he had to feel the pain again. That was the last thing he wanted to do.
Glaring right back at Bobby, Mike insisted, "I'm not leaving either. You want to hole up here, than you're stuck with me." When Bobby sighed and made a move to the bedroom, Mike stepped in front of him. Meeting Bobby's eyes, he threateningly replied, "No. I'm not letting you lock yourself in there. I'm sure that's where you spent all night."
Shaking his head, Bobby angrily threw a punch at Mike. Mike ducked the punch and grabbed his arm. Meeting his eyes, Bobby pulled his arm away and hissed, "You're not keeping me out of there."
Throwing his hands up, Mike snapped back, "What the hell is your problem? I am not the bad guy here. I'm trying to keep you from going back in there and drowning."
Bobby swallowed hard. Taking a step back, he whispered, "I don't know. I'm sorry. I just…I can't do this, Mike. I can't live without her. I don't care about anything anymore. I don't…feel anything, just…pain and-and rage."
With a nod, Mike whispered, "It's OK. Sit down, let me make you breakfast, cause I know food is the last thing you've thought about this morning."
Just staring at Mike for a moment, Bobby confessed, "I couldn't eat, even if I was hungry. My stomach is way too jumpy."
Arching his eyebrows, Mike pushed a little, "You need to eat, Bobby."
Glaring again, Bobby moved around him. Closing the door, he snapped, "I said I'm not hungry."