A/N: What a busy two weeks; sorry it took me long to update, but with the new L&O:CI episodes and a burst of creativity, I was tackling a number of different things at once: a couple of new CI youtube videos, chapters for this story, and a few chapters for another CI story I'm in the midst of writing. So, yeah, fun couple of weeks.
A/N cont.: I also wanted to thank all the people who've reviewed so far! The comments I receive are aspiring and always appreciated. Again, thank you all for taking the time out to let me know what you really think; and I'll try return the generosity.
Ch. 7
St. Anthony's Mercy Hospital
Tuesday, March 13, 2003
Approx. 6:50 AM
Alex was dead tired; she rested back against the uncomfortably bad chair and nursed the cup of coffee in her hands. She worked a double on a murder case and hadn't been able to see Bobby before his surgery yesterday. Her head was pounding from the lack of sleep she gotten the night before; she should have stayed in bed but she was determined to at least hear some news about Bobby before she went into work that morning.
The hospital wasn't too far out of her way that she couldn't get to work on time; taking a glance at her watch she realized it was going on seven. She'd have to leave in thirty minutes if she had any chance at getting to Manhattan by eight.
Where is he?
Alex looked around the lobby and sighed in frustration. The nurse had paged Dr. Jefferies nearly ten minutes ago. He could have been in surgery, but if he was why didn't the nurse tell her that?
"Excuse me, Ms. Eames?"
Alex looked up; a wave of disappointment filled her when she realized that it wasn't Dr. Jefferies. "Yes; and its Alex."
The doctor smiled and sat down across from her. "I'm Dr. Roberts, the hospital's Psychiatrist." He offered his hand to her.
Alex stilled as he introduced himself. He was Bobby's shrink. Tentatively she shook his hand. "How's Bobby doing?"
Roberts eased forward in the chair, sitting on the edge of it. "He's doing well. The surgery went smoothly. He's on bed rest right now; he slept most of yesterday."
Alex relaxed and took a sip of the coffee to help wake her up. "Will he be able to walk on it soon? I don't think he'd appreciate a wheelchair."
Roberts chuckled and shook his head. "No, he wouldn't. Dr. Jefferies gave him a cane to use and he's been going just fine with it. We tried to talk him into a wheelchair, at least for a couple of days, but…" he smiled over at her. "Well, you know how he is."
"A stubborn mule." Alex smirked and finally felt her nerves ease with the playful way Roberts was talking about Bobby. "So, you're his shrink. You're not bad-mouthing him yet or running away screaming."
Roberts laughed and leaned back in the chair. "He's…unusual, I give him that, but I've dealt with worse. We haven't officially had a session yet."
"Oh, I spoke too soon," she teased. Alex took a moment to look him over before admitting, "I give you two sessions before you lose your nerve with him."
"Nah, I'll at least last five." Roberts regarded her serious suddenly and leaned forward again. "Tell me…what's the best way to approach him?"
Alex sighed and rubbed at her head. "I want to help him, but I'm not sure if I'm the right person--"
"You're his partner. You probably know him better than anyone." Roberts took a hold of her hand and leveled her with his eyes. "He's struggling, Alex. In every way imaginable he's struggling, but he needs someone to do the things he can't like telling me about himself. I'm not asking for intimate, personal details. All I'm asking for are some basic facts, something for me to go on as his doctor. I know he's incredibly intelligent and can talk me under the table about psychology. So, for me to be able to do my job, I need to know what to expect and how to go about talking to him."
Alex stared at his hand on hers and sighed heavily. She hoped Bobby wouldn't be too upset with what she was about to tell his shrink. "Don't beat around the bush with him." She eyed the doctor before continuing. "Your typical tactics aren't going to work. He knows exactly what you're going to say before you say it and he'll know exactly what you want to hear to make you think he's fine." She took a long drink from the coffee hoping it would not only relieve her dry throat but her quaking heart. "We worked a case a while ago, a girl was kidnapped along with her family but she was the only one raped."
Roberts grimaced but kept his attention focused on her.
"She wouldn't talk to anyone; she was the only one that could identify the man who did it. I tried the typical approach, told her what I thought she wanted to hear. Bobby, he…told her what she needed to hear. She had Stockholm Syndrome and he started off by telling her what she was fearing, that she was identifying with her attacker. But then, he turned it on her and told her the truth: she was strong and not the person she was afraid of. It was…amazing, he got her to open up and in the end helped her. He succeeded where even the doctors failed."
Roberts nodded. "You're right; I would have taken your approach and I would have failed the girl too. What, uh…about your partnership? What're the dynamics like?"
Alex smiled as she felt the tears on her face. She reached up and wiped them away as she tried to steady her emotions. "Intense," she smiled at the memories of her partner that flooded her mind. "I'm senior partner but I let him take the reins most of the time. It took us a while to figure out our way of working together. Most partnerships you just accept that you're both cops and you know how the game works. With Bobby, he changed the game. Before, with past partners, we showed up to interview a witness, we flashed our badges, asked the normal questions, and then we left."
"And I'm guessing Bobby didn't have the typical, normal cop questions?"
Alex chuckled as she leaned back in the chair. "There's nothing normal about Goren when he's on the job."
"You use each others last names?"
"Always," Alex said with a nod. "It's professional and Bobby likes to keep a certain distance. Plus, he wanted to show everyone that he respected me even when it seemed at times he was going over my head or disrespecting my judgment."
"Has he ever done that? Disrespect you?"
"Never," was her quick reply. Alex was growing tense again at the direction of the conversation. "He disagreed with me on some occasions, I disagreed with him, we've butted heads, and we've even stopped talking to each other for a day, but…never did it feel like he was disrespecting me or my position. At first before we found our solid ground it did. I was furious with him more than any other officer I've ever met. And I didn't understand his logic or where he was coming from. He wouldn't talk to me about his thought process or inform me of anything personal."
"But then that changed? He started letting you in?"
Alex shook her head as she finished off her coffee. "Not with me. It was a part of his interrogation and interview technique. He would use his life experiences to make the suspect or witness identify with him. I tried to ask him myself, but he always gave a vague answer or didn't answer at all. He has problems with trust and that was what was holding us back in the beginning. I couldn't trust him and he wasn't showing his trust in me. Hence the butting heads. We rammed into each other so often I'm surprised Captain Deakins didn't split us up himself."
Roberts smiled. "What about after that trust was gained?"
"Then, everything changed. He still would only let bits and pieces of himself out, and it was usually during interviews, but sometimes he would tell me things himself."
"Was it always during a case? Or did you two hung-out after work and talk?"
Alex shook her head. "Never after work; that was when we would separate, go on with our private lives. It wasn't until we felt more comfortable with each other that he started taking me out for a drink after work. Our talks would be about work or about stuff that he already disclosed about himself. He wouldn't go into great detail; to this day he still calls me 'Eames' even off the clock."
"He likes distance then. He never gets in too close with anyone," Roberts said in more of a statement of fact than questions.
Alex just nodded to that. "He has his reasons. Reasons I'm not going to tell you." She leveled him seriously with her eyes. If Bobby wanted Roberts to know anything personal, he'd tell him himself.
Roberts held up his hands. "I understand. I'm not looking for specifics, just a starting ground."
"He won't let you get to him." Alex didn't know where that came from, but she wanted to get the subject back on track, away from their partnership. "No matter what you say to him during your sessions, no matter how much you think you know about him and can control the situation, he'll take it out of your hands. Once he figures out you're on to him, he'll back off so fast the walls will be up before you knew what hit you."
"You know this from experience."
Alex gave an indifferent shrug. "He tries with me. I can get in so close before he closes off. It's like a guessing game with him sometimes."
Roberts nodded in understanding as he eyed her. "You're the only one he even lets in that far. You know it? A man like Bobby, a gift like that is something special. He must really trust you."
Alex felt the well of tears sting her eyes as Roberts blurred in front of her. "We're just partners."
Roberts looked like he wanted to say something but he shook his head. It took him a moment to regain himself. "He thought about you, you know," he suddenly told her.
Alex held up her hands. "Dr. Roberts, I know you want to help me as well as Bobby, but he won't appreciate this. He'll want to tell me himself."
"That's just it," Roberts stressed. "He'll never tell you."
Alex eyed him for a long moment. "He may not come right out and say it, but…he'll let me know. In his own Goren way, he'll talk to me." She nodded in satisfaction that she knew what she was talking about.
After Roberts got up and left, Alex prayed that she had been right in talking with Roberts. She figured she'd find out soon enough.
Doctor Roberts's Office
Thursday, March 15, 2003
Approx. 2:00 PM
Roberts smiled over at him when he entered the room. He was quickly on his feet and offered his hand. "Bobby."
Bobby shook his hand but didn't return the greeting. He was dreading this appointment ever since Roberts told him about it three days ago.
"How's the leg?"
Bobby shrugged and tapped his leg with the cane. "Sore, but…manageable."
Roberts returned to his seat as he kept an eye on him. "You can sit down."
Bobby eyed the chair. With his right leg throbbing, he should sit, but he was too nervous and eager to get the session over with that he couldn't stay still. He ignored the chair and let Roberts know his offer was ignored as well as he ventured across the office and stopped in front of the bookshelf. Giving the titles a once over, he looked over at Roberts as he pointed at the books. "You don't have a single book about psychiatric medication."
Roberts took a glance at the books before nodding. "That's right."
"But you're a Psychiatrist…You, uh, don't believe in medication?"
Roberts leaned back in his chair, seemingly unfazed that he was the one being questioned. "Not when other means are suitable and in some cases more beneficial. If I prescribe someone medication, it's only when it serves in the best interest of that person."
"Not client?"
Roberts smiled up at him. "I don't have clients."
Bobby turned away from the bookshelf and eased his way over to the desk. "You prefer names, being personal."
"I prefer being a friend, yes." Roberts sat a little straighter in the chair. "But it also depends on the person I'm dealing with. Everyone's different, like you. You don't need me to tell you wants wrong with you, you already know. However, because you do know, you're blinded to helping yourself. Even shrinks need a shrink."
Bobby stopped at the side of the chair and leaned against it, taking the weight off his cane and onto his left leg. "I'm not…blinded. And you're right; I don't need you to tell me what's wrong."
Roberts raised a brow and said sternly, "Prove it."
Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his stance. He didn't know if he wanted to play this game with Roberts, but he couldn't help the itch of trying to see just how good Roberts really was. "Post-traumatic Stress Disorder."
"Try harder."
Bobby sighed and rubbed at his jaw. "I'm, uh, Schizophrenic and all this has been a delusion. You're not even real."
Roberts chuckled and shook his head. "Funny. Now, can you be serious."
Bobby smirked and grabbed hold of the side of the chair and sat down. He twisted his cane around in his hand as he glanced at the name plate on the desk. 'Dr. Stuart Roberts M.D.'. He then leveled his gaze at the floor. "Solitary confinement."
"Now we're getting somewhere. Solitary confinement can cause a psychiatric syndrome that is--"
"--associated with agitation, self-destructive behavior, and overt psychotic disorganization. I know the facts, Doc." Bobby sighed and leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling.
"All right, hotshot. Let's go over the symptoms, one-by-one, but you have to give an example from when you were abducted. Use your experiences, okay?"
Bobby didn't respond. He was feeling the swirling of thoughts and emotions slamming into his mind like tidal waves on the beach. If he didn't cool his adrenaline now, he was going to have another outburst.
"Hyper-responses to external stimulus."
Bobby blinked back and looked over at Roberts. "Well, since I was in a room with no light and little noise…I'm sensitive to loud noises. I could hear, while in the ICU room, I could hear the water dripping in the bathroom…It was driving me so crazy my jaw would twitch."
Roberts nodded as he wrote that down. "It's common; that'll go away soon once you get used to your environment again. And panic attacks, I know you have them."
"They're less frequent," Bobby corrected. "Jefferies thinks they'll be gone soon."
"Okay, so…How about difficulty in concentration and memory?"
"My memory's fine." Bobby shook his head against the back of the chair. That seemed to be his saving grace while in that hell.
Roberts was eyeing him. "Just certain memories or all of them?"
Bobby closed his eyes and sighed. He decided to skip the question entirely. "I had problems with concentrating. My thoughts would scatter, jump from one thing to another…It'd take me longer sometimes to remember who I once was…but, I'm fine now. It's not a problem. I-I know who I am."
"Are you sure about that? When you blew up at Dr. Jefferies, it was over asking permission, being treated like an animal. Do you still think of yourself as being back there? Do you feel it around you?"
It was getting hard for him to stay still. Bobby felt the anger flush his face as his hands clenched. He was losing his control, his sense of self. It was slipping from him the more he let Roberts take over the conversation. He sat up in the chair and stared at Roberts. "All of it; okay. I experienced every damn symptom while I was locked in that cage. Overt paranoia…"
He stared out into the darkness of the room as his eyes searched frantically around. The man was there, wasn't he? He was there somewhere, sitting, watching him, and waiting for him to make a move; waiting for him to try and do something or to say something that he could mock.
The water the man had given him had to have been poisoned or drugged. He'd been hearing things all day, or night. He didn't know. Twilight zone shit; spaced out zone. Somewhere between time and day and space and night and he didn't know anything except that asshole was out there, watching him through fucking goggles and taunting him.
"And," Bobby continued, "the emergence of primitive aggression?"
He felt an icy numbness run through his body as an animalistic rage reared, taking control of every part of his body and soul. He heard a terrifying noise that shook him to his bones. It was primal and instinctive, and it was coming from his throat. "You bastard!" He lunged back, trying to break loose of the ropes as the anger in him flared. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"
He heard his voice, but he couldn't believe the viciousness that flowed through it. That primal voice was back and whoever was talking, it wasn't him. Bobby was gone and the raging beast that was underneath spilled out.
Bobby eased closer to the desk and leaned half-way across it. "Problems with impulse control."
Despite the warning, instinct kicked in as soon as he heard the door open. He charged forward, slamming into the rock-hard body in front of him. His body landed on the man, causing him to grunt in pain. Without being able to see, he took a swing in the direction of the man's face only for his knuckles to crack into the goggles.
That should have been the end of it, but he was raging underneath. He felt the overpowering urge to destroy the man that had not only held him captive, who had raped and tortured him, but who had killed Alex.
"And lastly: perceptual distortions, illusions, and hallucinations."
"Bobby?"
He swung his head around toward the sound. His heart was pounding out the sound of his name. It had been so long since he heard it that he almost forgot what it was. "Hello?"
"Bobby."
The voice came from the right, he turned and started at what he knew was the brick wall. Where was the voice coming from? It was a woman's voice. He gripped the cage bars as he tried to search the dark room. A fear gnawed at his stomach and worked its way up his chest.
"I'd be okay, Bobby." The voice said again; it was calming and reassuring. It sounded like Alex's voice.
"Who's there," he screamed out into the room. The fear filled his head causing it to pound. There was nobody there. He was hearing things. His hand gripped the bars tighter as he started to tremble. He was losing it. The darkness, panic, and paranoia were getting to him. First, he hears voices then next…what? Seeing people? Will he wake up one day and swear that Alex was physically in the room with him?
Bobby glared at the Roberts. "Does that satisfy the criteria?"
Roberts stared at him in a mixture of emotions, one of which was agitation and that was what spilled from his thick voice as he said, "And all this, wrapped up into one and extending over a long period of time is reason for your behavior, your anger, and your eventual attack on Mr. Landy."
"Don't make excuses for me," Bobby snapped.
"It's not an excuse. It's a fact. You lost it in there. And you let that primitive aggression and that inability to control your impulses consume you and you attacked your abuser in the only way you knew how: by using your words to manipulate his mind."
Bobby gripped the arms of the chair as his anger was spurring in him again. "I didn't attack him for my own…selfish needs."
Roberts was confused for a moment before he asked, "Then who was it for?"
Bobby froze and was honestly taken back by his own admission, and the connection Roberts made to it.
"During your hallucinations," Roberts inquired further, "who was it that you saw or heard? In your memories, who kept you grounded? It was her, wasn't it? Your partn--"
Bobby swung his cane around and pounded it onto the desk sending the name plate tumbling to the floor. He glared at the doctor as his breathing quickened. "Leave her out of it."
"What'd she do for you, Bobby? She helped you. And look at how you're re-paying her. You've only seen her once since you've been here."
Bobby lunched himself out of the chair and pounded the desk again, this time with his balled fists. "I'm warning you," his voice shook as those words seethed out of his mouth. "Back off."
"I've been told you're not a violent man." Roberts held his glare. "Is this another loss of impulse control? Or…is this something primitive?"
Bobby's jaw clenched as he leaned closer to the doctor. "You've never seen me pushed into a corner or provoked so you have no idea how violent I can be…And I'm running out of words, Doc."
"How am I provoking you exactly? If Alex helped you, why are you so furious about it?"
Bobby needed to regain his stability; his hands were starting to shake against the desk. "Therapists aren't supposed to provoke." He tried to turn the attention back onto Roberts.
"Maybe, but like I said, it depends on the person. There are times when I take it slow, let it take months to get to this point, but do I seriously need to do that here, with you. You're smarter than that, than all of this."
"But you're failing! You haven't established anything here with me. Not trust, not a sense of comfort or familiarity. You've jumped the gun," Bobby fired back at Roberts. "And look what happened? Instead of helping me, you royally fucked it up! Nice going, Doctor, you've just lost every ounce of trust or friendship you gained from me."
Roberts face was flushed as he tried to control his own anger. "Bobby, just relax--"
"What?" Bobby was inches from his face. "Am I taking your control away from you? Guess what, you never had it to begin with."
"Goren--"
"You're back on last name basis, Roberts? Huh? Pretty soon am I just going to be another client?" Bobby straightened and headed toward the door.
"Goren…Bobby!"
Bobby opened the door and turned back to Roberts. "Our sessions are over."
The door slammed behind him as he stalked down the hall toward the elevators. He pressed the 'up' button and waited for the doors to open. As he stared at the metallic doors that slid open, he backed away as he saw it was full with people. There was another 'ding' as another car opened; it was nearly empty with only two other people on it, but the arrow was indicating it was going down.
Deciding he didn't care if he returned to his room, he got on the car and headed down to the first floor. Once he was out of the elevator, he didn't know which way to go. He hadn't been down on the ground floor yet. Heading toward what he presumed was the front of the hospital he tried to ease his racing pulse and mind.
As he rounded a corner, he spotted the front entrance and made his way over to the nurse's desk. Bobby smiled at the nurse as he approached. "Hi."
The nurse, Heather, smiled back at him. "Hi, what can I help you with?"
Bobby leaned on the counter, taking the weight off his leg that ached with a newfound relentlessness. "I'm, uh…Bobby Goren, a patient," he held out his right wrist so she could see his identification band.
"Ah," Nurse Heather exclaimed as she read the band. "You're the guy Dr. Jefferies warned us about." She smiled. "Taking a walk?"
Bobby relaxed at her playful manner and smiled. "I was. I, uh…I wanted to just step outside, actually. Get some fresh air."
"Aren't you going to freeze," Heather asked him.
Bobby looked down at his clothes. He'd put on a pair of jeans and a navy blue sweater over his black tee-shirt, and he was wearing a pair of his work shoes with no socks. "I'll be fine."
Heather rolled her eyes at him. "Not more than ten minutes, or I'll send a search party after you. And don't leave the premises."
Bobby nodded his thanks and started toward the doors. "What if I want a search party," he asked with a playful smile.
"Jen warned me about that devilish smile of yours."
Bobby chuckled and eased the door open with his back. "You mean my devilishly charming smile?"
"Easy," Heather said as she raised his left hand and showed off her ring. "I'm married."
Bobby stilled smiled as he said, "Lucky guy." He had to admit the fluttering made him feel a little better.
Once he was out in the fresh air and daylight and it accord to him that it was the first time in nearly three months that he got to take it all in: the sunlight, the cold, the smell of nature and exhaust, and seeing the world move around him.
It was beautiful. It reassured him that he wasn't still locked away in a cage. That he wasn't in a basement and all this was a delusion. He felt the cold on his face and smelt the scent of snow in the air. Soon that snow would turn to rain once it started warming up in preparation for spring. And here he thought that he'd never experience another changing season again.
His body started to shiver after only being out there for a couple of seconds.
"Where's your coat?"
Bobby looked over and saw a man sitting on a bench by the entrance. "Uh…don't have one with me."
The man nodded and held up the cigarette in his hand. "Want one?"
Bobby walked slowly over to the man and sat down next to him. "Yeah, thanks." He stuck the cane between his legs to keep it from falling to the ground as he took a cigarette from the man. "I'm Bobby."
"Patrick," the man said as he offered up his lighter. "What're you here for?"
The way Patrick said that made Bobby think that the guy was referring to being in prison instead of at a hospital. "I'm a patient." He held up the cane. "Had knee surgery."
"Yeah," Patrick nodded. "I'm waiting to be a dad."
Bobby smiled over at Patrick. "What're you doing out here?" He took a long pull off the cigarette and felt like melting back into the bench.
"Her parents are on the way and I have to meet them out here." Patrick was watching the cars go up and down the street.
"Well, congratulations." Bobby was nodding as he started watching the cars himself and the people that walked by.
"You got kids?"
Bobby shook his head. He didn't want to get into a serious conversation with the guy; all he wanted to do was relax in the cold and thank God that he was still alive. It seemed Patrick wanted to chit-chat until his in-laws showed up.
"It's a blessing."
Bobby glanced over at the guy as he took a drag off the cigarette. "I'm sure it is," he said once he blew the smoke out.
He really didn't want to be rude, and a birth was a wonderful thing, but he was getting slightly irritated. He wondered if it had anything to do with his abduction or not. Usually making small-talk with someone was no problem, it was part of the job and he was a good talker. Now, he couldn't get himself into it, into that easy-going mind space where he could just…talk.
Leaning back against the bench, he stared up at the sky. Roberts had hit a nerve; and he'd been right. It made him uncomfortable to know that Roberts had pegged him from the moment he walked into the office. He'd let Roberts know some things, but not nearly enough for him to have sized him up that quickly. It was like Roberts already knew what to expect. Roberts had known to push him, to not beat around the real problem and…
Bobby jerked up and tossed the cigarette to the ground. "Maggie Coulter. Son-of-a-bitch." He grabbed his cane and headed back inside.
He passed the nurses station and made a beeline for the elevators. Roberts knew because someone had told him. Bobby took the first elevator going up even though it was full of people. He normally didn't take elevators that were close to being full, all the people and tight spaces would be just a little too much to push him over that edge, but he only had four floors to go.
It wasn't long that the doors opened and he was once again walking toward Roberts's office. As Bobby neared the door, his anger started to double in intensity. He didn't bother to knock as he opened the door. Luckily, no one was in the office except Roberts.
Roberts looked up and said a little too sarcastically, "Back so soon?"
Bobby marched over to the side of his desk and leaned on top of it. He didn't waste anytime as he bluntly said, "You talked to Eames."
Roberts went ridged for a split second before he nodded ever so slowly. "We had a chat."
The hurt in Bobby's eyes swelled as that hit him. "W-what…What'd she say?"
Roberts got up out of his chair and tried to calm him down. "Easy, Bobby," he said as he reached for his shoulders.
"No," Bobby snapped as he pushed Roberts's hands away from him. "What did she say," he demanded. He straightened to his full height and stared down at Roberts. The doctor was only a few inches shorter than himself, but it still had the effect of making Roberts flinch. He hardly ever used his physical size to intimidate, but this wasn't a normal situation.
Roberts was trying hard not to show that he was getting intimidated, yet it came out in his voice as he finally said, "Nothing personal. I asked her what the best way was to approach you. And I knew I couldn't gain your trust, not now, probably not ever so--"
"You provoked me. Played on my fears…You used her against me."
"You fear her?"
Bobby stepped back and rubbed at the back of his head. This wasn't going as well as he hoped. Hell, he didn't know what he was expecting to do once he got back her. "I didn't say that."
Roberts wasn't buying it. "Bobby, you just said--"
"I know what I said!" Bobby turned and headed across the room, away from Roberts as he tried to fight down the anger and frustration that had risen in him. His knee was getting worse; sending stinging jolts of pain up and down his leg. "It wasn't…" he took a deep, calming breath. "I said two different things at once. You played with my fears, and you used Eames against me."
"I played with a very small amount of your fears. You have a hell of a lot more that I don't even know about and they're hindering you."
"My demons are mine and mine alone." Bobby glared at Roberts. "I can deal with them, and with this."
"Not on your own."
Bobby closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He could do anything on his own; he'd been doing it his whole life. "How'd you know? I know it'd take time, but…I'll deal with it. I just…" his tiredness was showing as he slumped against the bookshelf. "I need my space and…time."
"You need to talk to someone."
Bobby opened his eyes and stared over at him. "If I can't handle it…I'll be back." He pushed himself off the bookshelf and headed toward the door.
Roberts sighed in annoyance as he watched him. "Bobby, you're going to be biased and you can't judge yourself properly."
Bobby opened the door but didn't look back as he said, "Maybe, but…I've got to at least try."
"Even if you crash and burn?"
Bobby glanced up at Roberts. "I won't," he said before he shut the door.
Room 122
Saturday, March 17, 2003
Approx. 7:42 AM
Bobby focused on his hands and keeping them steady as he guided the razor along his jagged jaw line. He'd cut himself several times already as his right hand was shaky and uncoordinated. Taking a deep breath, he guided the blade slowly up his neck and over his jugular vein; he winced as it nicked him just above the vein. He let out a deep breath and cleaned off the razor.
"You better be careful, Mr. Goren."
Bobby glanced over his shoulder at his nurse Jen. "I did okay." He glanced back at the mirror and watched as the blood trickled down his neck.
"Uh-huh. Real good job." Jen turned away and started changing the bed sheets.
Bobby watched her for a moment then shut the door to the bathroom. Today he was going home, and he couldn't be happier. He was getting around good using the cane, Roberts was giving him the okay to go home but wasn't too happy that he had refused to continue seeing him, and Jefferies had cleared him as well.
But he wasn't out of the woods yet. He still had to drink the liquid medication for his throat, he had two prescriptions one of antibiotics and the other for pain, and he still couldn't eat anything solid except soup and crackers. They had given him protein drinks that tasted like vanilla chalk that was supposed to help build fat and keep him healthy. He remembered an uncle he had drinking the same exact stuff when he had cancer.
Bobby winced at himself in the mirror one last time before going through his bag; he pulled out a black shirt and a button-down flannel. His jeans were still hanging loosely off his waist and he had to use a belt to hold them up. He debated about going out and buying thinner clothes but decided against it. Hopefully it wouldn't take long for him to build himself back up. Even though his diet was reduced to liquid chalk and soup, his tolerance for solid foods was getting stronger. Jefferies had reassured him that in a few weeks he'd be back to eating three full meals a day.
"Bobby?"
Bobby heard Jefferies voice through the door. He finished buttoning his flannel and grabbed his cane off the counter. "Yeah," he asked as he opened the door and spotted Jefferies by the bed.
"I've got your papers here that you need to sign-off on." Jefferies held up the clipboard in his hand.
Bobby grabbed his bag and tossed it by the door. "Then that's it, I can go?"
Jefferies nodded. "I've scheduled your physiotherapy for Saturday. At first it'd be every Saturday; it'd be cut back to every other week and then eventually once a month until you're all done."
Bobby was nodding as he took the forms and looked them over. "And I should be able to write again with it?"
"Only a little writing; if you need to write out any long forms for work, I'd suggest you use a computer. It's going to hurt; the arthritis in it will make you not use it a whole lot."
"I can learn to shoot with my right and I don't do a whole lot of writing, just…taking notes. Eames usually does most of the paperwork," Bobby mindlessly mentioned.
"Speaking of Alex," Jefferies said as he took the papers back from Bobby after he signed them. "She's going to be picking you up."
Bobby froze as he stared at Jefferies. He felt like he'd been sucker punched. "She's picking me up? Who told her to do that?"
Jefferies eyed him right back. "No one, she volunteered."
"I can take a cab," Bobby protested. "I'm taking a cab."
Jefferies shook his head and looked at Jen who just sighed and rolled her eyes. "Good luck with calling her and talking her out of it."
Bobby watched as Jefferies left before walking over to the phone and eyeing it. If he called her, she'd insist and come to get him away. There wasn't anything he could do that'd make it end good for either of them.
It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, he did. He wanted to see her and talk to her so bad that it physically hurt. It was the fact that he needed to see her that bad that forced him to keep her away from him.
He rubbed his head at the ache that throbbed in his temples. Why couldn't everyone just leave him the hell alone?
Bobby Goren's Apartment
Saturday, March 17, 2003
Approx. 8:31 AM
Bobby heard the pounding on his front door. It was Alex. She was supposed to pick him up from the hospital earlier, but he left before she got there. He knew that she was furious with him. The truth was he was furious with himself. He should have called her and at least told her he was leaving and to not bother going to the hospital, but he didn't.
If he could, he would have let her stay outside his door until she finally left. But, he couldn't. Even though he didn't want her there, he needed answers and he needed to see her. He gave up wearing a path in his carpet and stalked over to the door and undid the three locks and yanked it open.
Alex blinked back at him in surprise for a moment before sighing and staring up at him.
Bobby glared at her before he glanced around the hallway. He saw a neighbor's door opening down the hall and he quickly stepped aside letting her in.
"Mind telling me why you bailed on me this morning," Alex asked once she was inside his apartment.
Bobby shut the door, locked it, and then faced her. "Mind telling me why you talked to Dr. Roberts behind my back?"
Alex didn't say anything to that. She rubbed at her head and walked into the kitchen. He watched as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Want a refill?" She held up his empty cup that he'd sat on the counter next to the coffee pot.
"Sure." Bobby made his way over to her and waited until she was done. He took the offered cup in his still bandaged left hand as he tried to balance himself with the cane in his right. The weight of the cup hurt his hand, but there wasn't much he could do.
Alex walked by him into the living room and sat down on the couch.
Bobby watched her from his position in the kitchen and glanced toward his bedroom. "It's my fault."
The soft declaration was barely heard in the apartment but Alex turned her head and eyed him before taking a sip of the coffee. "What is," she finally asked after a couple of drinks from the cup.
Bobby slowly walked over to the recliner and sat down heavily and leaned forward so he could see her face. "Rebecca." He motioned his head toward the bedroom. "That's why my bedroom's been changed. He…killed her, in there. You didn't tell me."
"I…" Alex trailed off and shook her head. "I wanted to, but you didn't want to listen to me."
That felt like a slap in the face. The silenced stretched on for what seemed like hours as they just stared at each other. Bobby was starting to grow impatient, his un-injured leg bounced up and down uncontrollably under his left elbow that rested on it. The coffee was warm and it helped to warm him up. The black turtleneck he had on was barely keeping him warm in the cool apartment. "He thought she was you."
Alex raised her eyes to him in confusion.
Bobby glanced at her then returned his attention to the coffee table. "He didn't check to see who he was killing; he just assumed Rebecca was you. Jared…w-wanted you dead."
"Is that what Tim told you?" Alex's voice was soft and strained.
Bobby swallowed around the lump in his throat then took a long drink of the coffee. "Yeah, he, uh…" he cleared his rough throat and tried again. "H-he told me that he killed you. I knew he wasn't lying; I hoped he was, but the way he said it…" He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. "I thought…" he trailed off. It was obvious what he thought.
"You thought I was dead. Bobby, I'm sorry," Alex was saying as she stood and went to step closer to him.
"Don't," Bobby demanded as he twisted his right hand around and warned her to stay away from him. He watched as Alex eased back down onto the couch. It took him a moment to gather his emotions and breathe. He was feeling the anger rushing through him as the room was getting smaller. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. "You should have quit me."
He heard the sharp intact of Alex's breath and the few seconds of deafening silence as she didn't breathe at all. "Quit you? What makes you think that?"
Bobby took a wary glance at her. "I just…I don't know." He rubbed at his jaw as he said, "Anybody else would have called it quits by now. Why haven't you?"
"I'm not anybody else, Goren." Alex stared at him as she asked, "Is that what you want me to do?"
Bobby tried to look her in the eyes but eventually he had to turn away and look at the floor. His emotions were starting to pick and pry at his control like a spider at a trapped fly; he felt his body start to shake in anger. God, what was he really trying to ask? And why was he so afraid of the answer?
Alex touched his hand and he nearly stopped breathing. "Hey, look at me."
Bobby stared at the small soft hand on his and felt the tears burn at his eyes. "I can't." He closed his eyes as he tried to get the courage to say what he needed to. "I let you down, didn't I?"
"Let me down?" The confusion and worry in Alex's voice was sharp and clear. She had no idea what he was talking about.
He didn't really know what he was talking about. His mind was racing with so many thoughts as his body started to shake from the sudden panic that flared in his chest. Bobby swallowed hard and opened his eyes. "And now…What I did to him, to Tim because I thought…" He shook his head. Even though he couldn't see her, he could feel her trembling; her hand started to shake on his. "I'm not worth anything anymore."
"You don't believe that."
Bobby heard the disbelief and fear that layered her stern voice. He raised his eyes to her; he knew that the truth he felt poured from his eyes. The tears threatened to break as his hand clenched around his cane. He slammed the cup down on the coffee table and quickly stood as he headed for the bedroom. Alex couldn't see him like that; vulnerable and weak. He was almost in the room when he heard her call after him.
"Bobby."
He stopped just inside his bedroom and waited. When he didn't hear her say anything else, Bobby turned and faced her. "Will you please leave?"
Alex sighed in frustration and stood firmly in front of him. She went to speak, but he cut her off.
"Eames," Bobby said as his right hand gripped the side of the open bedroom door. "I won't ask again." Those words slightly trembled from his mouth. In the short seconds that followed, he saw the stunned eyes of Alex flinch at the strict warning.
"Is that a threat?" Alex asked; the sound of her voice made him think that she couldn't even believe that she was asking that at all.
Bobby swallowed hard as his deathly hollowed eyes bore into hers. "I don't want it to be." He then stepped back a few feet and closed the door, blocking her out of the room and out of his world.
TBC….
