Familiar Surroundings: Pt. 4 By: The Confused One

Disclaimer: As always I don't own anything. I just wish I did.

A/N: I was going through rewriting and correcting and some expansions of stories. And do to comments by A Tattered Rose, and rereading the story myself, I thought this story needed an epilogue, to wrap things up. So this is my attempt to truly wrap it all up, and satisfy the reader with a real ending this time. Just remember to please review. Thanks.

If Alex knew her partner, and she was sure she did, she knew he'd be sequestering himself in his house now, letting the pain settle for the night. He had taken off almost immediately after they had taken his brother in. Alex had only been able to surmise that he hadn't just vanished by the fact that, obviously, his stuff was gone. The moment she had walked into the room, Christ was telling her everything. Carver worked up some papers so that he could go back to a facility, and Deakins and Alex had spent a majority of their time worrying about Bobby. He hadn't been answering his cell or house phone, and Alex had just finished up all the paperwork that had to be done that day, like Christ's facility papers. Course, she knew, they'd have to have Bobby sign them, but at least he wouldn't have to make all sorts of decisions about it. Alex had done all of it that she was allowed to do. So here she was standing outside her partner's apartment, hoping her knocking would get his attention. She was relieved when, after a moment, Bobby answered the door.

Taking in her partner, Alex didn't think she had ever seen him look so bad. He had already changed into sweats, and she could tell that his shirt at least was on backwards. She whispered, "Hey."

Alex had been the last person Bobby Goren had wanted to see that night. As far as he was concerned, she had seen enough, but he also knew that he wasn't going to just get her to leave. She was stubborn that way. He just decided on a combination of arrogance, smugness, and ignoring her, maybe she'd get the message. He icily replied, "Hi."

Alex watched as Bobby turned around and stumbled back to a chair. A glass of scotch sat on the table beside him. Stepping inside, Alex closed the door behind her. Before he could pick up the glass though, Alex had it and began taking it to the kitchen. As Alex was expecting, Bobby was immediately on his feet protesting. He yelled at her, "I was drinking that. Eames, come on. Where are you.? What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Alex dumped the scotch down the drain, ignoring her partner's questions and protests. It was obvious that more alcohol was the last thing he needed. Bobby finally made his way into the kitchen. He was no longer yelling. His voice was low and threatening now. He demanded, "What do you think you're doing?"

Putting the glass in his dishwasher for him, Alex didn't even bother to face him. Keeping her own voice low, she informs him, "You've had enough to drink tonight Goren. You can barely walk."

Closing the dishwasher, Alex finally faced him. There was fire in his eyes now. His anger spewed over, "Like hell. I'm drunk enough when I say I'm drunk enough."

Alex had to keep from rolling her eyes. Shaking her head, she reminded him, "It'll still be there in the morning Bobby. It's not going to make things better, and you know it. So, I'm not going to let you drink yourself into a stupor."

Bobby stared at Alex for a moment. He knew she was right, but he didn't want to give it to her. He was feeling belligerent enough to make her work for it. Turning around he found the chair again. He watched as Alex appeared and stayed at the doorway of the kitchen. Looking at the white wall in front of him, Bobby replied, "I don't care."

Alex finally gave herself permission to roll her eyes, and that's exactly what she did. She figured that the only way to get through to him tonight would be to keep challenging him. Keeping her voice flat, she reminded him, "Yeah you do. You do care. You can't tell me you don't. I saw it."

Bobby still refused to look at her. He figured that maybe she'd finally get the message then and leave. In spite of himself, he found he was telling her more, "No one asked you to come."

Alex shook her head. She replied, "No. You wanted me there. You said so yourself."

Shaking his head again, Bobby finally looked at her. Finding her eyes, he replied, "Well, I'm an idiot. Don't you know that by now?"

Alex held his gaze. She was determined to make him understand that none of this was his fault, that he and his family were dealt terrible cards, anything but that this was somehow his fault and something he should be ashamed of. She answers almost immediately, saying the first things that she can think of, "No. You're just human. There is a difference, a big difference. You can't be responsible for your family. They're your family, not you. All you can do is what you've ever done, take care of them and love them."

Bobby finally pulls his eyes away from Alex, and starts staring at the wall again. His voice is low, defeated, and haunted, "Sometimes. Sometimes I wish it would happen to me. That way I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore. I wouldn't have to think about the possibilities of it happening anymore, and I wouldn't have to watch them suffer every day. It would be a little bit of a release. Alex. This disease, it haunts me. I live with it, worry about it, watch it destroy the people I love every day, and I'm not sure how much more I can take."

Walking towards him now, Alex squats down, to find his eyes. With her hands on his knees, she admits, "I know. Believe me I do. I watch you everyday. I wish. You can't do it alone. I wish you'd let me help. I wish you'd talk to me. You didn't even tell me about him. You're my best friend, and I'm, I'm scared to death for you here. Why are you really in here trying to, what? What are you trying to do to yourself here?"

Bobby looked away again, remembering now that he had wanted to make her go away. If he were in a better mood he might have found it amusing. He could never figure out how she was always managing to get him to talk. She was so good at it too, like an art form that she mastered, just to work on him. Not that it mattered anymore. He had already told her the important stuff. With a sigh, he replied, "I hate it when you do this, you know that right?"

She could smell the scotch as he spoke. It dawned on her then why he rarely, if ever, drank in public, the smell, too much like his father. He didn't want anyone to have to smell it. She was brought out of her thoughts when he looked at her again. She gave him a half smile and replied, "Yeah, I know, but you don't exactly usually give me much of choice but to drag it out of you."

Bobby shook his head. He accepted her response, knowing she had a point, a good point. He finally got around to answering the question, "You want to know what I'm doing, I'm wishing that you had never needed to meet my brother, like that. Wishing the disease called schizophrenia away. Wishing my shitty life away. You didn't know either of them before, before the disease. My. My mother used to read three or four books a day, on a busy day. She had a wit, a lot like yours. She could talk about almost anything. She was involved in all sorts of charities around the city. Used to, used to give speeches. God, even as a little, little boy, I, I knew. She, she was special. You, you would have loved her. Your type of person. When she, when she started to change it, it was small at first. She would think she heard someone say something. She would, would say something and it wouldn't make sense because, because no one had said anything anyway. She, she slowly. She closed in on herself. She stopped speaking because, because they told her to. She, she stopped her volunteering. Her jokes and wit just, just seemed to vanish. She, she stopped caring about, about us. It, it destroyed her. The, the woman I talk to and, and visit, it's not my mother. It's a shadow. By the time, the time I put her in, in Carmel Ridge, her life was consisting solely of the library and her apartment.

"Christ, Christ was much the same. While we were growing up, he was the same. He was always the good one, dad's favorite. We were awful to, to each other most, most of the time. All sorts of practical jokes. He had my mother's wit. But, but after she. He changed. He sided with my father. Spent as much time out of the house as possible. He hated her. He blamed her for everything, like, as if, as if she could have just turned the voices off. He became a different person. Left home at sixteen. By, by the time he came back, he was, was back to being my brother, but, but the disease would take what I had left of him too. You. You really want to know what I'm doing here? I'm, I'm mourning. The loss, of my family. I'm mourning the loss of the people you never got to meet, but would have loved."

By now Alex was sitting in the chair beside him. She spoke softly, trying to keep him calm and subdued, "I wish I had known them."

Bobby snorted and shook her head. Catching her gaze, on purpose this time, he added, "More than anything though. I'm mourning the women. The women my, my brother killed this time, and I'm angry. I'm angry with myself. I can't even face him now. I can't even look at my brother. There is too much of myself there. Even worse, I can't face Deakins. I, I can't look at him even. We've been friends for a long time, and, and he knows about my family, but this is different. They were responsible for this. Someone in my family killed people. There's a real confidence booster."

Shaking her head, Alex couldn't believe that he thought anyone thought any of this was his fault. As far as she was concerned her partner had been dealt a shit hand in life, and anyone who didn't see that wasn't worth anyone's time of day anyway. She whispered, "Goren, none of this is your fault. You aren't responsible for what people around you do. You're not responsible for anything that anyone in your family does. Deakins was worried sick about you, with good reason. No one is blaming you. For the second time in your life, you've had to bring your brother in for murder. No one deserves to have to be put in that position, especially not you. You've had enough cruel irony in your life. Look. I filled out the forms for you. He's going to go to a different facility. Hopefully he'll like it better there. There isn't anything left to do tonight. I'm here to make sure you don't self-destruct on me. Let me make you some coffee and aspirin. You're going to have one hell of a hang over."

Bobby absent-mindedly nodded. He had given up fighting her a few minutes back. All he wanted to do now was crawl into a hole and die. Alex stood up from her seat, eyeing him suspiciously. She watched him by way of the bar area that was set up to help open up the rooms and join the kitchen and den together some. She quietly made coffee and watched him sit there. She waited just long enough to be able to pour two cups before taking the thermos away from the actual coffee machine. She brought the two cups out, one with some aspirin sitting on the plate that the cup was sitting on too. Alex laid that one in front of Bobby. She took a sip of her coffee. He took a sip of his and downed the two aspirin. Alex started again, "You know, in the future, talking to me is really a lot less painful than drinking the amount of alcohol that I think you've consumed tonight."

Bobby gives her a small smile. In an odd way he was feeling a little better. He finally replied, "I'm sorry. Earlier, I was just. I just."

With a smile of her own, Alex broke in trying to help him out, "Being an ass? It was about what I expected. Don't worry about it. You're allowed a little slack after the day you've had. I'm here no matter what. There's no getting rid of me."

Bobby took another sip of his coffee. It was odd. Her assurance that she was sticking around actually made him feel better now. He had been lying to himself before. He did want someone. He needed someone. Then again, he always did, and he knew it. Finishing his coffee, Bobby replied, "Thank you."

Alex gave him another smile. She wasn't entirely sure why he was thanking her, but she'd take any progress she could get. The mission of the night had been getting him talking and from self-destructing. She seemed to have accomplished both. She was satisfied, therefore replied with a little confusion in her voice, "For what?"

Bobby swallowed his pride. He finally responded, "For today. For being here. For every time you have to come pick up my pieces. It's not exactly in the force or partnership description."

Alex smiled. She replied, "Yeah, well, you're worth the trouble. Come on hot shot. I'm putting you to bed. I'm fairly sure that you'd never make it to your room alone right now."

Bobby gave her an embarrassed smile as Alex helped him stand and walk down the hallway to his room. Once they were in his room, Alex helped him sit down on the bed, then asked, "Where's you pajamas?"

Bobby pointed at one of the drawers in his room. Opening the drawers, Alex had to smile. Everything was organized by tops and bottoms and then by color. Picking out a top and bottom that seemed to match Alex handed them to Bobby. She had a wryly grin on her face before asking, "You going to make sure it's not all on backwards this time?"

It was then that Bobby began inspecting the clothing he was wearing and made the realization that he indeed had is top on backwards. With another embarrassed smile, he replied, "Yeah. I will."

Alex shook her head. With another smile, she headed towards the door, calling back, "I'll give you a moment to change."

Alex went ahead and cleaned out the coffee cups and put them in the dishwasher. She dumped the little bit of coffee that was left, she hadn't made much in the first place. She decided at this point go ahead and check on Bobby. Making it to his room, she smiled. He was curled up under the covers asleep. Alex took the clothes that he uncharacteristically left on the ground and put them in his darks laundry basket. After turning the last light off by the door, Alex smiled again. She whispered, "Good night Bobby." After closing the door, Alex found a couple of blankets in the linen closet and settled down on his couch. She was not about to leave him.