CHAPTER 9

Danny Ross walked wearily into the hospital's waiting room. The last hours had been some of the worst and longest of his life—professional and privately. There were some that ranked lower—or higher, depending on your perspective—such as the day his youngest son wound up in the hospital after trying to jump a culvert on his bike on a dare from his older brother ("But, Dad," an ashen faced Jeremy said at the hospital. "I didn't think he'd really do it!"), or the evening his wife finally asked him for the divorce Ross didn't have the strength to request. But the past hours of waiting without being able to take any action were almost as bad as that drive to the Tate Correctional Center with Alex Eames. Ross paused for a moment to assess his surroundings and noted that two of his worst professional experiences involved Detectives Alex Eames and Bobby Goren. But, Ross thought, the detectives were also responsible for several of his triumphs at Major Case, including the resolution of the Amberleigh case, the discovery of Isabella Harrington's killer, and, most spectacularly, Mark Ford Brady's confessions. Goren and Eames had made Danny Ross look very, very good. As Ross learned something about Goren's troubles, the Captain found he became more sympathetic to and admiring of the big detective. As Ross scanned the waiting room for Alex Eames, he realized he was starting to have a grudging affection for Bobby Goren.

He found Alex, perched on the edge of a couch and staring at several empty coffee cups on a low table, at the far end of the room. Some of the dust from the ravaged bank branch clung to her, and Ross saw several bright crimson patches on her clothes. She looked tired and drawn, and Ross wondered, not for the first time, how exhaustion somehow made Alex look younger rather than older.

"Eames…Alex," Ross said softly as he walked towards her. "How is he?"

For a moment Alex didn't register the Captain's presence. She lifted her head slowly. "Captain," she said in a strained voice. "He…he's in surgery…They got him stabilized in the ER…but there was internal bleeding…"Alex bit her lip. "He…he was already exhausted…He hadn't recovered from…and then he…he was beaten so badly…and then the explosion…How can one person…"

"I don't know, Alex," Ross said as he sat carefully beside her. "You and Goren certainly seem to have had more than your share of trouble recently."

Alex rubbed her neck. "How are the hostages?"

"They're fine," Ross answered. "Ben's mother…Mrs. Mitchell…was close to going into shock, but the EMTs were able to help her…The little girl was fine once she got out of the building…The guard will be ok, but if Goren hadn't got him out when he did…All of the others were scared, but they're ok…There would've been a lot more hostages if Goren hadn't diverted the robbers and got the bank employees out…"

"Good," Alex said. "Rye Maguire?"

"Is here being treated for some bruises and shock…He claims he didn't know about his brother's plans…I'm told he keeps begging for forgiveness and wanting to talk to Goren…"

Alex sighed. "And you know what? Bobby will want to talk to him." She stretched to try to get a kink out of her neck. "I just hope someone appreciates what Bobby did," she said bitterly. "I'm sorry, Captain." She looked at Ross. "I probably wouldn't have said that…It's just I'm tired and worried…"

"It's all right, Alex," Ross said. "Truth is, I feel pretty much the same way…And so do a lot of other people…"

"Do…do you think," Alex asked tentatively. "That this will…if he's ok…They'll let him back…if he…if he wants…" With a shock, Alex realized she wasn't sure if Bobby wanted to return to the NYPD, and that the possibility he might not return filled her with dread.

Ross smiled wearily. "Alex, did you see all of the press at the bank? Bobby Goren is New York City's hero of the hour. In about an hour every member of the Brass that can find an excuse will be here, not to mention politicians."

Alex stared at the floor. "Even the Chief of D's?"

"Even him," Ross said. "Goren may get his badge back without a psych clearance…"

Alex's head shot up. "That shouldn't happen…Bobby wouldn't want that to happen," she said sharply.

Ross studied her for a moment. "I don't know a lot about him," he said softly. "But I do know he lives for the job."

"You don't understand." Alex stood. "He's not like everyone else…He's not like other cops…He believes in all of that business about "To Serve and Protect"…It's why he stayed in the bank…It's part of why he went to Tate…It wasn't just because Donnie was his nephew…" Alex started to pace. "He wanted to…and thought…those prisoners deserved help. He wouldn't want to be back on the job if he's a danger…" She ceased pacing and looked at Ross. "You know something…I agree with him…We're supposed to protect people…all of the people…not just cops…not the department…people…"

"I agree with you, Alex," Ross said softly. "But it's not that simple all the time…or even most of the time…Particularly where I'm sitting."

Alex sat. "I know." She ran a hand through her hair. "And Bobby knows that…It's just…He doesn't always take his blinkers off…He tries to do what's right, and the hell with the consequences even to himself…Maybe especially to himself…"

"Ms. Eames?" An impossibly young looking man with a photo identifying him as Dr. Alan Bridges approached Alex and Ross.

Alex looked up worriedly. "How is Bobby?"

Ross placed a subtle and gentle hand on her back.

"He came through the surgery very well," Bridges said. He glanced at the file in his hands. "But he had a lot of injuries…Some broken ribs…A small fracture in his lower right arm…A concussion…Deep bruises all over his body…Several deep cuts on his legs…There was some internal bleeding, but we think we've got that under control…The explosion blew a lot of stuff into his back…We think we've got most of that cleaned out, but we'll need to keep an eye out for infection…"

Alex and Ross winced as the doctor described Bobby's injuries.

"We'll need to watch for bleeding as well," Bridges continued. "He's going to need plenty of rest…But he should recover completely…"

Alex slumped in relief. Ross let out a breath he didn't know he held.

"Ms. Eames." The doctor sat across from Alex. "Do you know much about Mr. Goren's medical history?"

"A little…"

"We found evidence of recent injuries to his wrists and stomach…"

"Detective Goren received those in the course of an investigation," Ross explained. Alex looked at him gratefully.

"There's also evidence that his right arm was broken before," the doctor added. "Very badly when he was a child."

Alex frowned. "I…I don't know anything about that."

"It also appears that he hasn't been eating or sleeping well recently."

"He's had a tough time lately," Alex said softly.

"Well, he should be getting plenty of rest for the next few days," Bridges said as he stood.

"Can we see him?" Alex asked.

"For a little while…He's still under the effects of the anesthesia. He's in Intensive Care, but we should be able to move him to a regular room in about twenty-four hours."

"You go on…stay with him, Alex." Ross stood up. "I have to get back to Major Case…Let me know how he is and call me if you need anything…anything."

Alex nodded to acknowledge the Captain's words, but she was already following Bridges to the ICU. She tried to ignore the patients, many of whom were tethered to terrible looking machines. Bridges stopped in front of one of the cubicles.

"It's a little frightening," he said. "Detective Goren was pretty beaten up…"

Bobby lay propped up on the hospital bed. His skin was almost as pale as the spotless white sheets. His right eye was black and swollen, and his head covered by a white bandage. His upper lip bore several stitches, and a dark bruise adorned his left cheek. His right arm, encased in a splint, lay by his side. An IV tube snaked into his bruised left arm. His bare shoulders were visible above the covers, and both were bruised, with the dark spot on his right shaped like a rifle butt. Alex's heart bled for him.

"He must be a tough, brave guy," Bridges said admiringly. "I was told he saved several people…"

"Yea," Alex said with a mix of pride and concern. She studied Bobby. "He's so still…"

Bridges checked the IV. "That's the painkillers we have him on…and his exhaustion."

Alex wasn't used to seeing Bobby so quiet and unmoving. Even when he totally concentrated on a piece of evidence or lost in reading, some part of Bobby—a restless foot, a nervous finger, a blinking eye—reflected his rapid thoughts. But now, aside from the comfortingly regular rise and fall of his chest, Bobby was absolutely and completely still.

"Don't worry," Bridges said as if in response to Alex's thoughts. "It's good he's so quiet. Rest is the best thing for him. When he wakes up, he's not going to feel very good."

"I'm staying here with him," Alex declared.

Bridges hesitated. The question didn't appear to be open for debate. "All right," he conceded. "But let the nurses shove you out occasionally for appearance…And remember they're really in charge…They only pretend to let us doctors think we're the bosses."

Alex settled as much as she could in the plastic chair Bridges gave her. She trapped Bobby's left hand in her hands and tried to will him to get better.

"I can tell one thing," the doctor said as he started to leave.

Alex turned her hand slightly to acknowledge his words, but her eyes didn't leave Bobby.

"Mr. Goren's lucky to have a friend like you."

"I'm lucky," Alex responded huskily. "To have him…"

END CHAPTER NINE