A/N: Okay, that was a long delay and I'll try not to have the next chapter take a month, but no promises. This is a really, really long chapter but I'm trying to speed up time because this is a long story. And for some reason, the line breaks aren't showing up sometimes and I don't know why.

Enjoy!

Harlem Mercy Hospital

It'd been over an hour since they took him back but there was still no word. Every once in a while a nurse would come out and say something, mostly that Bobby was doing okay but they were still running tests. Elliot had time to call Captain Cragen, his wife, Olivia, Alex, and even drink several cups of coffee while they waited. It wasn't until West said something to him about the blood on his hands that he realized he had yet to clean himself up.

The blood had stained his shirt sleeves and coated his hands. It was easy to take off the shirt but his hands were taking some time. He scrubbed with soap and hot water until the blood was all washed away. He checked over his shirt and the bottom of his shoes; he had a spot where he'd stepped in some blood on the street when he helped the paramedics lift Bobby onto the stretcher. In the ambulance on the way to the hospital Bobby had woken up. He seemed confused and groggy but his friend and colleague had grabbed his arm, pulled him down, and tried to speak. Elliot couldn't make it out because Bobby's voice was slurred and he had gauze in his mouth to stop the bleeding from a profusely deep cut in his mouth.

Elliot threw the red and wet paper towels into the trash bin and cursed. He tried to push the guilt and anger down with not getting there in time. It was his responsibility to protect Bobby and West while they were undercover. He had failed. Somehow, he'd missed it until it was too late. He had gotten to Bobby as quickly as he could and got off a few rounds in his attempt to stop his attacker. One missed but the second round caught the guy in his upper shoulder and the third hit him in the lower back.

He kicked the trash bin, punched the wall, grabbed his blood stained shirt and then left the restroom. The waiting area was busy with those sick and injured along with family and friends. Elliot looked around for Detective West and saw him down the hallway talking to a nurse.

"What's the news?"

Elliot turned as he heard Captain Cragen's voice. His Captain looked tired but mostly worried as he approached him. "He's okay but they're still running tests. At least that was what the nurse had told us about an hour ago. I'm sure he's fine, Cap. What took you so long?"

"The phone call I had to make to the Brass. Also I got a call from IA; all I could tell them was I didn't know anything. What the hell happened?" Cragen asked.

Elliot shook his head as he crossed his arms. "The best I could tell was he was waiting for Bobby. He must have seen him pull up or what car he got out of. There was an entrance not far down from his car. This time of night there's no way any of us could've seen someone waiting."

"Any ID on the attacker and his condition?"

West was the one who answered as he walked over to greet Cragen. "His name isHuang Kan-lin, or Lin for short. He's one of our suspects in the rape case. And right now he's still in surgery."

"Should've killed him," Elliot muttered under his breath. The look his captain gave him told him not to let anyone hear him say that out loud.

"And I'm certain what took Goren down wasn't the stab wound," West continued saying, "but his head injury. Lin had used a pocket knife; single edge, two and a half inch blade, less than an inch in width…" he shrugged. "I've seen a guy get stabbed 20 times with a four inch blade all over his head, body and back who survived. This was nothing."

Elliot nodded in agreement. "He woke up in the ambulance and seemed confused. I'm sure he suffered a concussion. That's why he blacked out; Lin used brass knuckles," Elliot told Cragen. "I'm surprised Bobby stayed conscious for as long as he had."

Cragen looked around before he asked, "Anyone think to call Detective Eames?"

"Who?" West asked.

"Bobby's wife," Elliot said as he nodded. "I called but got no answer." He checked his watch, saying, "I think she starts days, so she'll be getting up in a few hours. I'll try again once-"

"Are you here for Detective Goren?" All three men turned to see a doctor standing just inside the waiting room. Elliot saw that the doctor was holding a bag with Bobby's bloody shirt. The doctor walked over to them as he introduced himself, "I'm Doctor Smith."

"I'm Captain Cragen, these are my detectives," Cragen said as he gestured to him and West. "How is he?"

Doctor Smith smiled as he told them, "Extremely pissed off."

"He's awake?" West asked.

"Yes, he is and he's doing great and even threatening to leave already. Sorry it took so long, but I wanted to find out the extent of his head injury. He suffered a concussion from a blow to his head, and a cut over his left eyebrow that required stitches. We performed a CT scan to check for any bone injuries to his face and skull; there were none. Then we did an MRI which took some time," Smith told them before explaining, "As far as his stabbing, he's lucky whoever did it had bad aim. The wound was to his side and below his rib cage. It didn't penetrate any organ, missed his lung and stomach by less than an inch. If it had been a longer blade, this would have been a very different conversation." He handed the bag with the bloody shirt over and said, "Like I said, it was a minor injury but we did have to perform a small surgerical operation to drain blood due to internal bleeding. He'll need time to heal, but I don't see why he can't return to limited duty in the next week. He should refrain from being out in the field for at least a month."

"Thanks, Doc," Cragen said as Doctor Smith started to walk away.

Elliot was pulling out his cell to call Alex again when he heard a voice calling out. He breathed a sigh of relief while at the same time looking in disbelief at the detective who was pushing open the security door that lead back into the surgical wing.

"I said I'm fine; you can stop following me." Bobby was pale and looked tired; his eyes were slightly glassy but aware. He had no shirt to wear so he had the gown on over his jeans that had a patch of dried blood on the left side. Other than that, he looked pretty normal. A nurse was, in fact, following him out of the door. Doctor Smith walked over to him to get him to sit down. "I don't need to sit down," he snapped at the doctor. "And I don't want to be given a damn narcotic pain killer."

"It's the only way to manage the pain," Doctor Smith told him. "You've had minor surgery and I don't care how superficial the wound was, you're going to be in a lot of pain while your muscles heal."

"I've survived worse, Doc. All I need is a higher dose of Ibuprofen."

Elliot watched the sparring match with a hint of amusement until Bobby started protesting against pain medication. He knew his friend's past with addiction and he walked over as Doctor Smith went to challenge him back. "Hey, Doctor," he said as he was about step in, but then Cragen beat him to it.

"Doctor Smith, as Goren's commanding officer I have to side with him. He doesn't want a narcotic. You should respect and appreciate his request."

Smith turned to the both of them in annoyance but Elliot knew it was mostly directed at Bobby. He studied them both for a moment before turning back to Bobby. "I can't write a prescription for anything higher than 800 milligrams of Ibuprofen. With the severity of pain you'll be in for the first few days, it will limit your recovery without proper pain control. You'll have shortness of breath from not being able to breathe deeply. You won't be able to cough or even walk without wanting to collapse. Now isn't the time to test your pain tolerance."

"I'm well aware of that," Bobby said as he stared the doctor down. "But I don't want anything that can be addictive."

It was then that Doctor Smith seemed to understand Bobby's concerns. Smith nodded, "You have a history of addiction. That's okay; we can plan for pain control that minimizes the risk of relapse. As a doctor, I can tell you that most people don't relapse from using pain medication after surgery. It's keeping their doctor in the dark and not informing them of their addiction that causes problems. I see that you're married. You can let your wife administer it or monitor your consumption. And, to also help, you need to take your prescription as prescribed. If you wait and let the pain worsen before taking it, you'll want to take too many pills to combat the pain instead of the recommended dose. So, can you do that?"

Bobby didn't look too happy about it but he gave a nod.

"You can wait out here and I'll prepare your release forms and prescriptions," Doctor Smith said before walking away.

Bobby only nodded as he looked over at Cragen and smiled. "Thank you for trying."

Cragen told him, "Anytime. How are you?"

"Tired," Bobby said as he looked down at himself and frowned, "and in need of a shirt."

Elliot patted him on the shoulder and said, "West thought to grab your dress shirt from your car." He helped to steer him over to the chairs when Bobby stumbled a little.

"I'm still groggy and…off balance from the anesthetic," Bobby explained as he eased down into a chair.

"Yeah, sure, and the concussion has nothing to do with it," Elliot said skeptically.

West grabbed Bobby's dress shirt off the chair he'd been sitting in and tossed it to him, saying, "I knew you'd be okay. If it had hit your spleen, you would've been dead before the ambulance arrived."

Bobby had a grim smile on his face as he huffed out a laugh at that. "I didn't even realize I'd been stabbed until I heard Elliot tell you at the scene. I just thought the guy punched me in the ribs or chest. Who was it?" he asked as he slipped off the gown and groaned in pain.

"Huang Kan-lin," Elliot told him as Cragen stepped away to make a phone call, probably to the brass.

Bobby stared up at him with confusion as he pulled on the dress shirt. "I was attacked by a baseball player?"

West was the only one who laughed before he told him, "No, our suspect Lin. That's his full name."

"Oh, well, he has the same name as a Pro Chinese ballplayer for the Uni-President Lions," Bobby said as he closed his eyes and eased back into the chair with a groan.

"So, I called Alex. She didn't answer but-" Elliot stopped talking as he saw the look on Bobby's face ashen face. "What is it?"

"You called her. Shouldn't you have waited to find out my condition first?" Bobby looked genuinely angry as he stared up at him.

Elliot stepped back and looked to West who seemed to not know Bobby well enough to know if he should step in or not. He returned his focus back to Bobby as he told him, "We didn't know what your condition was. All I knew was that they were running tests."

"I don't care, you should've waited," Bobby said as his anger increased. "She doesn't need this right now. I'm fine."

"The hell you are."

Bobby jerked his head over at the sound of Alex's voice. Elliot saw her standing there, looking pissed as hell, and he knew well enough not to get into it with them. He excused himself and went over to West and pulled him away.

"Who's she?" West asked him as they walked a few feet away.

"His wife." Elliot saw the detective look her over before giving a nod. "Don't let her size fool you," he said with a smirk. "She's the more dangerous of the two."

"I don't doubt it. I bet she can take him."

"I know she can," Elliot said as he listened to Alex confront her husband.

Alex stared Bobby down as she said, "Elliot said you were injured and in the hospital. How is that not serious?"

"I'm sitting here, aren't I?" Bobby said as he pushed himself out of the chair and stepped over to her. "Look, with all that's going on, the last thing you need is to worry about me."

She looked ready to argue that point but Elliot was surprised when all the fight left her as quickly as it surfaced. Alex relaxed in relief and nodded as she let Bobby pull her into a hug. She said something to Bobby but Elliot couldn't make it out. He had a feeling he was missing something. There was no way Alex would have backed down that quickly. And what was this talk about her not needing this right now? He wondered what else had happened and why Bobby hadn't told him.

Doctor Smith returned and asked Bobby to sign some papers and let him preform one last check on him before releasing him. Bobby left with Smith as Elliot stepped over to Alex. She did look exhausted.

Elliot waited until she looked up at him to ask her, "Are you okay?"

She gave him a tight smile and nodded. "Yeah."

He wasn't sure so he asked, "You're on days today, right?"

Alex looked more tired as she shook her head. "I'm off." She was quiet a moment before saying softly, "I went in Tuesday, my off day. Bobby had a meeting with ADA Novak so we both ended up working the day after we married. Deakins took pity and gave me Wednesday night off."

Elliot nodded but that didn't explain why she had today off if she had the night before off work.

"My mom passed away early yesterday morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Elliot said as he looked up at West who shook his head. "Bobby didn't say anything."

"He wouldn't." Alex turned to West and with realizing she didn't know him said as she held out her hand, "Alex Eames, Major Case."

"Jeremiah West with Narcotics, and it's a pleasure to meet you," West told her as they shook hands, "And I guess both my sympathy and congratulations are in order. Only four days married, and you lost your mother. I'm glad I could help Goren stick around longer for you."

Elliot turned to Alex and told her when she gave him a confused look, "West was a medic in the Marines. He made sure Bobby was okay as we waited for the paramedics to arrive."

Alex looked to West with gratitude and told him, "Thank you."

West shrugged and told her, "He's my partner, temporarily, but still no thanks required. Just wish I had been there to prevent it."

"So what happened?" Alex asked as they walked over to a row of chairs and sat down while they waited for Bobby. "Why was he attacked?"

West was the one who told her, "Our suspect may have been upset with Goren. We cornered him and his girlfriend after an NA meeting and Lin, the attacker, got hostile. I don't think he liked the way his girlfriend was flirting with Goren."

"I wouldn't think so. I can only imagine as to why Bobby made Lin want to attack him," Alex said. "He's never been afraid to make anyone hostile."

West gave a knowing nod. "So I've come to learn. Anyway, after that, we took our time in leaving the diner where we confronted Lin. We parted ways and Goren went to his car. Next thing I know, I'm hearing sirens and gunfire."

"That was me," Elliot told Alex as he stretched out in a chair. He saw Bobby walk out of the security doors with several sheets of paper and walked straight over to Cragen. Bobby was probably getting his instructions to go home and rest. "I watched Bobby walk to his car. He had parked down the side street next to a row of trees; it was barely lit. I didn't see the initial attack. Then I saw movement, like a fight, and that's when I realized what was happening. Lin took off and I gave chase."

"Did you get him?" she asked.

"He's in surgery," Elliot told her as he gestured across the hall. "It was to his shoulder and lower back; and as far as we know, it's not life threatening."

Alex looked at him and said, "Don't sound so bitter. You got him, red-handed, assaulting and maybe even attempted murder on a cop. Either way, this guy's going down."

Elliot saw Bobby approaching them again and he was looking at Alex.

"Ready?" Bobby asked Alex as he held out his hand to help her out of the chair.

"Yeah."

Elliot stood and told Bobby as he was about to leave, "Hey, get some rest and don't worry about this. I'm sticking around here with West, and I'm sure IA will be dropping in soon. We'll try to keep them away from you as long as possible. You two take care and give me a call when arrangements are made." He looked to Alex when he said that. "I'll like to be there."

Bobby gave a nod and waved bye to him and shook West's hand before he and Alex left.

Elliot watched them leave before turning to West who was taking out his cell phone. "Looks like it's just me and you."

"And Benson," West said holding up his phone. "She just informed me that Brittney Green's at SVU. She wants to talk."

Bobby & Alex's Apartment

There was a gnawing dull pain in his left side, the right side of his face felt like it was puffed up to the size of a balloon, and his jaw felt numb. His head also pounded and it was hard to not groan. The pain medication they had given him at the hospital had worn off and the pain was starting to become intolerable. The pain he could deal with. All he cared about was the fact that he was alive and home.

He heard Alex shut the door and lock it as he dropped his bag of pills on the table along with his keys. "Give it to me straight, Bobby."

"I don't know what you want me to say," he said as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. "All life is, Alex, is a series of trials and tribulations."

"Bobby, this is bad. And it's not just your physical pain I'm worried about. You're starting to have nightmares again and not being able to sleep. There's only so much you can take."

"And it's so nice to know you have my back," he said sarcastically as he turned to her. "I know you're having trouble trusting me not to relapse, but at least you can have a little faith in me when all I do is believe in you, always." He glared hard at her to which she stared back, unrelenting, but at least she apologized.

"And I appreciate that, and I'm sorry that you think I don't have your back. I do, but that doesn't mean I can't be concerned. I have the right to feel what I feel, Bobby."

"I'm not trying to tell you how to feel, Alex." Bobby knew now that she had her doubts about him remaining sober; that she had doubted him this whole time while waiting for him to screw up. It hurt, but at least she wasn't lying about it and pretending anymore. "One of the reasons I self-medicated before was because I used to think I had to control everything, right?"

Alex gave a nod and looked up at him. He could see the shame on her face for doubting him and that hurt worse than the pain in his side.

He picked up the bags and took out the bottles of Ibuprofen and Vicodin as well as his antibiotic. "I can no longer think that way," he continued saying as she stared at him in annoyance and worry. "I can't control everything that happens to me or to other people in my life; all I can do is accept it, deal with it, make the right choices, and then move on." He walked over to her and handed her both the pain pill bottles. It wasn't time yet to take the antibiotic. "The meds they had given me at the hospital has worn off."

She opened one of the bottles and took one out and handed it over. He popped it into his mouth before downing the whole bottle of water. He had a cut on the inside of his cheek from where his teeth had sliced it open. It had stopped bleeding in the ambulance and didn't require stitches, but it stung as the water passed over it. The doctor told him to continue rinsing his mouth out with warm salt water to keep it from getting infected.

"Thanks," he said as he tossed the bottle away and headed for the bedroom.

He was getting extremely tired and his body was starting to feel sluggish. He made it to the couch and decided that was good enough. He collapsed on the cushions and leaned back while propping his feet up onto the coffee table. Hugo jumped up and let him pet over his fur before moving to the top of the couch. He closed his eyes and moaned as the pain kept gnawing away at his side.

Bobby opened his eyes and saw Alex standing in front of him. He motioned for her to join him on the couch. She sat next to him and as he wrapped his arms around her he winced as a sharp shot of pain went up his left side. Being stabbed wasn't nearly as painful as being shot; the pain was normally dull, and his muscles felt tight or the wound itched like crazy. The only time he felt pain was when he made quick movements or stretched. Alex turned her head to look up at him. She pushed up and gave him a kiss then moved her hair out of her face.

Her eyes took him in and she winced like she herself was in great pain. "I hate to say it, but you look like you got beat with the ugly stick."

He caught the laugh in his throat and groaned. It hurt to laugh. "It's not too bad; none of my eyes are swollen. The bruising will get better in a few days."

"And you have an extra day off. Does Cragen want you to come in on Tuesday?"

Bobby nodded. He was supposed to be on nights tonight and Saturday with Sunday and Monday off work. Now he'll miss the two night shifts because of his injury. "I told him I'll be back to work Tuesday and he didn't argue. Four days is long enough. The bright side is that Lin is in custody. If he is our rapist, he won't be able to hurt anyone else. I also have more time to go over my testimony for court. Opening arguments start Monday and I'll be on-call for testimony starting Wednesday." He then turned to her and said, "But most importantly, I get to be here for you and your family."

Alex smiled and he felt her hand smooth over his bruised face. He didn't flinch at the touch as she brought his face down to give him another kiss. It lingered for a moment before he broke it to muffle a yawn. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Alex helped him to the bathroom then she left him to go get the bandages and gauze from the kitchen. Bobby took the time to check his face out in the mirror and frowned. It wasn't too bad but the use of brass knuckles had caused some deep bruising and cuts over his left eye and along his right cheek below his eye. The one under his eye was healing on his own. The cut over his left eye, along his brow, required stitches. Two hits to the head with brass knuckles and he was lucky to have come away from it with only a concussion and a few cuts and bruises. It could have been worse. Then he also had a stab wound that will only cause him a lot of pain for a few days or week. Again, it could have been a whole lot worse.

Bobby knew well enough that a person didn't normally die from a stab wound unless it was directly to their heart, but even then there were factors. He had been a first responder to a scene where a woman had been stabbed in her heart. She survived it and recovered. A person was more likely to die from a gunshot than a stabbing only because the bullet broke apart on impact and the pieces could hit multiple targets in the body. A knife though, it goes straight in and straight out. He was just glad Lin didn't decide to turn the blade when it was in. That could have made things much more complicated.

Alex returned and put the bandages and gauze in the cabinet. "Do you have to wait to re-bandage?"

"Twenty-four hours," Bobby said as he started to take his clothes off. "But I can bathe as long as I don't get the bandage wet." He looked over at her with a sly smile spreading on his face. "Want to give me a sponge bath?"

Alex huffed out a laugh and turned to walk away. "We don't have sponges."

"And your point?" he protested as she left him alone in the bathroom.

Bobby knew she would be back to help him; she just wanted to make him suffer. Less than a minute later Alex returned wearing only her robe. He watched as she closed the door and smiled as she prepared the bath while he finished undressing.

The bath was quick but relaxing. While he rested his head against the cool tiled wall, Alex treated his sore body with the same delicate love she always seemed to treat him with. His eyes closed as he felt her hands run the soap and cloth over his back, washing the remnants of blood away.

He knew he was lucky to have her; so lucky she had stayed and even luckier that she loved him so much to have married him. Despite them being husband and wife for less than a week, it felt like they'd been married for years. They plenty ups and downs, probably more than their fair share, and he knew that they were stronger as a couple for it. Their love had been tested and tried many times over that he didn't think anything could ever make it sever.

By the time she helped him out of the tub, he was half asleep and pain-free. Alex nearly had to carry him as he leaned against her for support while walking to their bedroom. She eased him down onto her side of the bed and got in on his side to make it easier on him to lay on his right side. Bobby pulled her close as she rested against his chest. Sleep didn't elude him that early morning as he drifted off.

He fell into a deep dark sleep that made him feel like he was sinking into water. There was no day, no light, no up or down, only a vast darkness that he couldn't penetrate. He thrashed, kicked, and tried to swim to the top, to breakout of the sinking depths. He had a sense that someone else was there. Opening his eyes, he looked around the dark blue of a vast ocean around him trying to see who it was but he couldn't see anyone. A name was there, in the dark; one that he knew and trusted and reached for. His hand grasped only water as he reached out. He felt his lungs start to burn as his air was running out. He couldn't breathe as he struggled to fight his way up and out. The harder he struggled, the harder he fought, the faster he was sinking and the darker the cold water surrounding him got.

As he continued to jerk, the name finally broke from his throat as he forced himself awake. "Alex," he gasped out as he sat up in pain and started coughing as his lungs shook out a deep strangled breath.

He collapsed back onto the bed and continued to cough as the gnawing pain grew in intensity. Tears stung at his eyes as he finally calmed his breathing and was able to take a deep breath that didn't hurt too much.

Looking over in bed, he saw the empty spot where Alex should have been and the sunlight streaming in through the closed curtain. A light breeze was blowing in through the open window. The clock turned from 1:48 to 1:49 and he sighed and closed his eyes. He'd slept for nearly ten hours. No wonder he was alone in bed and in pain. The pills had worn off hours ago.

Pushing his heavy body out of bed-and it did actually feel heavy to him-he sat on the edge and moaned as he straightened. On the nightstand were two pills and a bottle of water. He quickly took them and emptied the bottle before getting up to take an unsteady step toward the door. He made it a few feet before stumbling against the doorframe. It hurt to breathe and walk at the same time and he almost convinced himself to just turn around and get back into bed before trying to continue down the hall. He used the wall for support as he made it to the bathroom. Once he was done in there he headed toward the living room.

By the time he made it around the corner he was sweating from the struggle it took his body to keep upright. Leaning against the wall, he peered around the living room and into the kitchen. Alex wasn't there. He swallowed hard and sighed as he pushed off the wall and headed toward the kitchen. There was no note on the counter or message on his phone, which worried him as he looked around while calling her cell.

After five rings she finally answered, "Hello?"

"Hey, uh, where are you?" he quickly asked as he walked over to the table and sat down. It hurt to keep standing.

"At the dry cleaners down the street, why, is something wrong? I left your meds and water on the night stand."

"Yeah, I got 'em. I wasn't expecting you gone, uh...Were you planning on cooking or picking something up while you're out?"

Alex was quiet for a moment then he heard her talking to Mr. TIen. "Yes...Thank you. I'm on the phone with him now, I'll tell him." Speaking louder into the phone, she told him, "Mr. Tien gave me a discount."

"He always liked you," Bobby said as he felt the pain finally start to ease.

"He also congratulated us on getting married. And, no, I wasn't planning on cooking. I can pick something up if you'd like."

"Yeah, uh, whatever you want. You know what I like, so."

"All right, bye, Bobby." She hung up and he was left hanging onto the phone as he pulled it away from his ear.

Staring down at his cell, he flipped it shut as he had a weird feeling come over him. He stayed at the table as he thought about the dream he had while trying to figure out what the feeling meant.

While he waited for her to return he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and headed back to bed. This time Hugo joined him as he curled up next to his head on the pillow. Bobby couldn't go back to sleep and after flipping through channels on the TV decided to try reading. He was nearing the last chapter of one of the reference books he'd picked up on pregnancy when he heard Alex come home. He heard the lock turn and catch and then a loud curse and bang on the door. The front door was tricky to get into, which was one of the reasons he often used the back door.

He tossed the book down and with some effort got back out of bed and headed to the door. He finished turning the dead bolt and pulled the door open.

Alex glared at him and said, "It thought you said you fixed it."

"I said I was going to try and fix it," he corrected as she walked by him with her hands full. "I can take something."

She handed him the dry cleaning then started for the kitchen with the bag of food. By the time he made it to the kitchen after hanging the clothes up, she was filling the kettle with water to heat up for tea. He saw the cartons separated on the table and found his and sat down while picking up a set of chopsticks.

"How're you feeling?"

"Good," he said as he watched her move around the kitchen. "You?"

She sat down across from him and opened the carton he had set out for her. Giving a nod, she said, "I'm hanging in there."

Bobby knew she was holding back, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she moved, and how she was ignoring him. She was going through a lot and this was just one more thing she had to deal with. "You know, Alex, I can take care of myself. Last night, you were saying how this was a lot for me to deal with, but...I think it's a lot for you too. Actually, it's more for you than for me."

"What are you saying, Bobby?" she said in hast as she sat her carton down and stared over at him. "You're always telling me to say what I mean so why don't you?"

He stared at her and sighed at her sudden frustration. "I'm saying that you don't have to deal with me, with...with having to babysit me. Let me handle it. All you have to do or think about right now is your family. If you want to go, to be with your dad or to make arrangements, then don't let me stop you."

"Who said you were?" she shot back. "I've been awake since this morning. I already called and made arrangements. I've talked to my dad, my sisters and brothers, and all the while, making sure you woke up to your pain medication."

"Thank you, by the way, and why are you angry?"

"I'm not," Alex said matter-of-factly before going back to eating.

Bobby knew her well and he knew she was. "Alex..."

"It's Tuesday, thanks for asking," she said as she got up as the kettle started to whistle from the built up steam.

He worked his jaw as he kicked himself for not making sure that was the first thing he asked. Now she probably thought he didn't care about her mother's funeral. "I'll let Elliot know."

"Did that already too," she said as she took down a book of tea bags and went through them.

"I..." Bobby sighed and suddenly no longer felt like eating. "What, what'd I do?"

Alex finally looked over at him in disbelief, saying, "You think this is about you?"

"Isn't it?" he asked as he continued to stare at her.

She shook her head and finished preparing her cup of tea, not answering which made him that much more annoyed.

"Then what is it?" he asked as she stopped next to the table but didn't sit down. He tried to soften his tone to keep from sounding as frustrated as he was; reaching out, he took her hand and forced her to look at him. "You know you can talk to me. You're angry, I can see that, and it's not good for you to keep it bottled up. Just say it. What's wrong?"

Alex squeezed his hand as she sat down in the chair. Giving him that smile that he knew was a put-on, said, "Nothing," as she pulled her hand away.

Bobby couldn't believe it. That feeling he'd felt earlier on the phone crept back in as he stared over at his wife. There was no basis for the feeling, no reason for it to have even existed, but it was there in his gut and in his heart. Something was wrong. There was suddenly a distance between them and he didn't know why it felt so obvious now and not before.

This was something he'd never felt coming from Alex; not since before they were together, at least. It felt like distance. And Alex was the one creating it. He didn't know what to do, or to say, as she went back to eating like nothing had happened when he felt like his whole world had just crumbled to the ground.

"Look, Alex, I'm sorry for pushing you, okay. Just know that I love you and I think you need to talk to someone about-"

"I don't need this," she grumbled as she grabbed her food and cup while she stood. She went into the living room, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

He couldn't deal with this, and her, any longer so he pushed up off the table, grabbed his carton of food and chopsticks, and went back to the bedroom. At seeing the book on the bed, he picked it up and tossed it across the room. It hit the dresser and landed on the floor. He picked up the remote and turned the TV back on as he tried to stop thinking about going back in there and start yelling. He wasn't that man anymore and he wasn't about to let her make him forget that.

Saturday

John Eames's House

Forest Hills, Queens

"You didn't have to come."

Bobby looked over at her as they walked up the sidewalk toward the house. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, maybe because before to get you to do anything with my family it was like pulling teeth. Now, after my mom's gone, you're suddenly willing to be here for us."

He stopped walking but Alex continued up the walk until she realized he wasn't beside her. She turned to face him. They stared at each other for a moment. Of all the things to say, and now, she had to bring that up and in that tone. It was like she was upset he was there at all.

"Are you coming or are you going to back-"

"Don't do that," he said with almost no emotion at all as he stared hard at her. "Don't minimize what I'm doing and why."

She stepped toward him as she looked around the sidewalk. There were some people out on the street, walking on the sidewalks, driving by in cars, and most were avoiding them. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're trying to say that this isn't important to me but it is. No, she wasn't my mother and I didn't know her that well, but she was your mom and you loved her and miss her and that's what's important to me. And you're hurt, and in pain, and I don't know, but it seems to me that you can't help but to deal with it by-"

"By what?" she challenged as she stepped up to him.

He didn't back down as he said, "By busting my chops, Alex, that's what."

"Oh, and once again we're back to this being about you."

Bobby shook his head and gritted his teeth. He couldn't win with her. "That's not..."

"I don't care what you think this is or isn't about, Bobby. All I know is that my family seems to be too damn busy to help and my dad isn't taking any of this well. Do you know that he's drinking almost constantly now. I've never seen him go through the amount of alcohol he's putting away and he's smoking again. My dad hasn't smoked in fifteen years, Bobby. He's chain-smoking like he wants to get cancer and die. And you know what? I can't deal with that. So yes, I'm pissed off and yes you're not helping. I've got too much to worry about right now and you were right at the hospital when you said that I don't need to worry about you too. But I can't help it because that's me, okay?! That's how I am and who I've always been. I'm the one who gets things done. I'm the one who's always taking care of everyone else and...and..." her voice started to squeak from the tightness in her throat.

The moment she stopped talking and she stared up at him Bobby saw it. The sudden break in her as her face fell and the tears broke from her eyes. He was an idiot, felt like an ass, and the only thing he could do was pull her close and hold her as she cried into his shirt.

Bobby sighed heavily as he felt her body start to shake against his. Leaning down, he kissed her temple and then whispered into her ear, "You've still got me. I'm still here. Stop trying to push me away. Okay?"

She gave a nod as her hands came up to wipe her face. He backed away so she could dig through her purse for a Kleenex. Bobby pulled out one from his pocket and handed it to her. She used it to dab her eyes and clean off the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head as he told her, "Don't be. You can't be strong and do it all, all the time, Alex. Sooner or later, it catches up with you."

"I didn't mean what I said to you about not caring."

Again he nodded as he cupped her face and forced her to look up at him. Smiling slightly he told her, "Yeah you did. It's okay, I understand. I admit that in the past I was a pretty, uh...selfish boyfriend. But I'm trying my hardest to be a better husband."

"I know and I appreciate it, Bobby, I do. It's just that right now all I can think of is the negative and I don't know why."

"You're upset and depressed. It's hard to see the good some times, believe me I know. Whenever you feel like it's getting too much, just say something or...If you can't talk to me, maybe there's someone else you can turn to." Bobby knew how hard it was for him to open up to Alex about some things. And how it was easier once he talked it out with someone else, like in group or with his partner, or Declan. "Are you ready?" he asked as he gestured up to the house.

Alex took a breath and nod as they headed up the walk to the steps. He was still a little weak from the injury but with Alex's help and the pain medication kicking in, he was able to climb the steps with little difficulty. They were the only ones besides John at the house. Alex had told him that everyone else was trying to deal with their own family and getting things ready for the funeral on Tuesday.

John Eames was sitting in his arm chair in the living room, glass of scotch in his hand and a bottle on the table next to him. The ashtray was overflowing and Bobby could smell the smoke in the air. Alex looked back at him with a frown before going over to her father. She gave him a hug then took the ashtray away to dump it out before putting it back next to him.

From the way John watched her and then his remark about returning it this time, Bobby figured they already had a talk about his smoking. Having had the habit and still battling it, he knew exactly what John was going through. Right then he itched for a smoke himself but knew he couldn't with his injury and because Alex would probably hit him.

He sat heavily on the couch and closed his eyes as he relaxed back into the cushion.

"How's the injury? Alex told me about it."

Bobby looked over at Alex's dad as he shrugged it off. "It's livable. Only tissue damage mostly." He looked around and saw the scattered picture frames and photo albums piled on the floor and on the coffee table.

"They were going through them trying to find a picture for the paper and to display. It's going to be a closed..." John stopped talking as he took another drink from his glass.

He watched him and it was hard not to feel the sorrow rolling off John Eames. The man literally had no idea what to do now with his life. Bobby looked away from him as he picked up one of the photo albums and flipped through it, not really in search of anything. He came to a stop on one picture. It was taken at a high school dance; the banner in the background said 'Class of 1953'. In the picture was some students, seniors, and he barely recognized two as John and Emily Eames.

"She was my first and only love. We were high school sweethearts. I was a senior and she was a junior when we met. Her father lost it when we got married right after I graduated; she was only seventeen but back then it wasn't that big of a deal, except her father hated me. Then she got pregnant with Richard soon after. He eventually forgave me."

Bobby looked over at John and smiled a little. "That when you became a cop?"

"Yep. Went right into the police academy and never looked back."

"Was that in Boston?"

"No, here. See, her family moved to New York soon after we married. I didn't have anything and neither did she. So, she still lived with her parents. If I wanted to continue being her husband I had to move too. We got a small apartment in Inwood. We stayed there until Junior was born and moved out here to Queens." John finished off the glass and started to chuckle. "I used to tell people that we met in a revolving door and we've been going 'round ever since."

Bobby smiled at joke as he went back to looking over pictures. "You're a lucky man, John. Took me forty-two years to find the love of my life, two more to marry her."

"Yeah," he said as he looked over at him with a smile. "At least you found her; I'm glad it was my daughter."

"You and me both," he said as the album fell shut as he closed it. Alex had been gone for a few minutes and he wondered what was taking her so long in the kitchen.

He was about to get up when she walked out with two plates in her hands. She handed one to her dad before handing the other to him. Bobby took the plate of food with a thanks before she retreated back into the kitchen.

"And you're giving me a grandchild."

Bobby looked back to John and smiled a little as he picked up half of his sandwich. "You have grandchildren."

"Not by her," he said as he gestured over his shoulder to the closed kitchen door. "I was starting to worry."

"About Alex? Uh, why?" he asked as started eating.

"Her age," John said as he refilled his glass. "It's hard on women to have a baby when they get older."

Bobby eyed John for a long moment as he chewed his sandwich as he thought about that.

"Emily was thirty-eight when she had John Junior, the age Alex is now. It was tough with all the medical complications. It wasn't the same. You should keep an eye on her, Bobby. Don't let anything happen to her or at baby. Have you picked a name yet?"

"We, uh...we don't even know the gender yet." He swallowed the food down and looked from John to the closed kitchen door with a deep frown on his face.

He hadn't given that much thought. Since this whole pregnancy thing started he had trusted Alex to know what to do and what was best. Sure, he tried to read about it, much like he had done when she was being a surrogate for her sister, but this was different. This was her being pregnant with his child.

The door swung open again and Alex carried out another plate in one hand and two cans of soda in the other. She handed him a can, put the photo album on the coffee table, and sat down beside him. With the look he was giving her, she asked, "What?"

"Nothing," he said as he went back to eating with the thoughts of John Eames going through his head.

"When do you know if it's a boy or girl?" John asked and he looked to Alex.

She looked back-and-forth between the two men and said with an amused laugh, "I'm only nine weeks. It'll be awhile before we know."

"So you're waiting before you start going over names?"

"We've been...trying names out," Bobby said as he took a big gulp of the soda, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in the room.

"Every name he hears he says it over and over like he's trying it out," Alex said as she started eating her sandwich. "Monte was the last one he asked about."

"I know it's not going to be Monte, Alex, I was just testing the waters," he said as he looked over at her.

"Then start at the shallow end before you jump in the deep end, Bobby."

"Yeah, keep it simple," John said as he pointed to Alex. "Take her for example. I wanted a son named Alex, I got a daughter instead, so, we went with Alexandra."

"Thanks, dad," Alex said as she rolled her eyes. "Glad to know, again, that you wanted a boy."

"I'm not complaining. You carry a gun. I couldn't be happier."

It took Bobby everything he had not to start laughing, especially when Alex look up at him in annoyance with her father.

"And you'll probably name our kid Tesla or something."

"Nikola Tesla is actually a pretty good name," Bobby defended.

"Yeah, if you're Russian," she shot back.

"I'm of Russian descent on my father's side, so...I like Nikola, or, uh...Nikolai. It's the Russian varient of Nicholas," he shot back as he finished eating his sandwich and potato chips. "And, it was my grandfather's name."

"Tesla?"

He looked over at her in confusion as he said, "No Nikolai."

"Oh," Alex said as she went back to eating but he could see that she was thinking about the name. Then finally she said, "It's not very Irish."

"I'm not Irish," Bobby said as he looked at Alex, then at John. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with being Irish, it's just...I'm not. The names that appeal to me the most, that are family names, are either Italian or Russian."

"How the hell did your parents meet?" John asked but in a joking way.

Bobby heard the joking but took the question literally as he said, "At the school library where she worked. He taught there."

John's interest shot up as he said, "Your dad was a teacher."

"He made most of his living as a substitute teacher. He taught high school English, uh, Literature, and History," Bobby said as he sat forward and twisted his hands together the more he thought about his father not really being his father.

In fact, he wasn't sure now where his paternal heritage was from. He knew it still came from the European countries considering his genetics but he wasn't sure where. It could be anything; he could have some Irish in him for all he knew. He knew that William's parents were from Russia, having been born there to a couple of German immigrants who migrated there from Germany. Then after World War I, his grandparents left Russia for New York just before Stalin took over at the Soviet leader. After they settled in Brighton Beach, they started a family and in 1928 his father was born. Well, the man who raised him was born. He knew nothing about his biological father. Not even his name.

"I've never heard you talk about him," John said with genuine interest.

"Well, there's not much to tell," Bobby said a little off-handedly. There was a fall back response he had to that question. It was the answer he gave everyone who ever bothered to ask about his parents. "He wasn't around a lot but when he was, he was a, uh...charming man. He loved a good time, you know, take me to ball games, hockey."

"Doesn't sound like that bad of a family man," John said and Bobby gave a half-hearted nod. Everyone was quiet for a moment before he said, "How often have you sold that bull?"

Bobby blinked and looked over at John who was staring at him. "What?"

"Cut the crap, Bobby, I've seen that look and heard that response plenty of times. You're lying."

He took a deep breath as his hands twisted so hard they hurt. Shaking his head, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've been a cop for over twenty years and I used to work with disadvantage kids. I know a story to cover the ass of a parent when I hear it."

It was getting harder to breathe and it took all the effort he had in him to not get up and walk out. He felt Alex's hand on his leg, rubbing and squeezing his knee through his jeans.

"Dad," Alex finally said. "Let's not talk about this right now."

"Why not?" John asked as he looked from her to Bobby. "He's going to be the father of your child, shouldn't you know what kind-of man raised him." He pointed to him and Bobby looked down to the floor.

"I know what kind-of man his father was," Alex defended herself, and him, as she stared her father down. "Bobby's told me plenty. And it doesn't matter anyway, he's not his father."

"But he's lying," John said. "How do you know what he's told you is the truth."

Bobby rubbed at his head as he felt it start to ache as his breathing shortened, quickened, and it was getting so damn hard to breathe. "Look, John," he said suddenly as he glanced up at the man. "My father wasn't ideal, I know that, Alex knows that, but that doesn't mean anything. Unlike him, I care. I may not be perfect but if there's one thing I'm going to do that my father never did it's that I'm going to love my child no matter what." Staring over at John, he asked, "You got a problem with that?"

John smiled slightly and shook his head. "None. Sorry, Bobby, I think I'm just a little drunk."

"A little," Alex sarcastically said as she got up and took the bottle away from him. "I bet you're seeing triple old man."

John watched as she took the bottle into the kitchen and said, "Yep, she's her mother all right."

Bobby emptied his can of soda, grabbed his empty plate, and got up with a groan as the dull pain in his side shot up along his ribcage from the pull. The pain wasn't too bad; it was mostly dull or gnawing, never really sharp or stabbing unless he made quick movements. What it really was, was annoying.

Going into the kitchen he saw Alex sitting down at the table rubbing her head. With seeing him walk in, she said, "I'm sorry about my dad."

"Don't be," he said as he tossed his can away and put the plate in the sink. The coffee maker was brewing a fresh pot in the corner and he could smell it drifting through the air. "He's a concerned father, grandfather, and he's also dealing with a lot. I don't blame him. I never opened up to him about my parents, or my life, to him and he's not used to being in the dark. It's, um, comforting to know that you can trust the people in your child's life."

Alex stared over at him with that confused look on her face. He knew that look all too well. "It still amazes me how well you know and understand human behavior, yet, when it comes to yourself, it's like you've never heard of such things."

Bobby chuckled as he sat across from her at the table. "No one can…uh, adequately, and truthfully, take a step back and look at themselves. We're all biased and what we see in ourselves is never what other people see. I mean, I don't think I'm worth much of anything other than being a profiler and cop. Yet, you see a hell of a lot more than that. You see a man who can be a husband and father, have a real home, in a normal relationship. That uh, that was something that was hard for me to see, to ever hope for. I really didn't think it was possible."

She reached over and took his hand; squeezing it in hers, she said, "I have a confession to make."

Bobby raised his eyes in surprise as he looked over at her. "You think that I'm not worth it?"

"No," she said as she rubbed her finger over his wedding band. "I can't see myself being more than a cop either. Thinking of myself now being a mother, Bobby…it does scare me."

He nodded as he saw the tears start to well in her eyes. "Hey," he said as he leaned closer to her and grabbed her other hand as she went to rub the tears away. "It's normal to be afraid, Alex. This wasn't exactly planned. You've always kept hope alive that one day you would be in love again, and married, and have a child. And it happened."

"You never had those hopes?"

Shaking his head, he honestly told her, "Not really. Yes, being a father, uh…terrifies me, but I never once told myself that if it were to happen that I wouldn't be there. I've always told myself that I would do everything I could possibly do to be better and do better than my parents. And the fact that I'm with you helps a lot. I couldn't imagine going through this, being a parent, with anyone else. I wouldn't want to."

Alex smiled at him and her shoulders slumped as she let out a deep breath. "For someone so well adjusted, I'm falling apart. And you still think this is okay."

Bobby reached over and moved her hair out of her eyes, trailing his fingers over her cheek. She took it and placed it over next to her mouth and kissed his palm. "You're pregnant, your mom just passed away, your dad's depressed, and you had a real scare concerning my life. Alex, if you didn't at some point break down, then I would be scared because I would know that, you know, you're a complete sociopath."

She started laughing, making him smile wide at hearing it. "Would you still be married to me if I were?"

He looked her over and shrugged, saying, "Of course, you're sexy as hell and laugh at my jokes. I could deal with the crazy part." Staring into her now twinkling eyes, he asked, "Feeling better?"

She smiled at him and said, "Knowing that you would love me no matter what? Yeah, I do. Thank you."

Bobby leaned over the rest of the way over the small table and gave her a kiss. "For better or worse, babe, until the wheels come off…as they say."

"And with all of this, I fear the worse is coming."

"You've got to weather the storm before things get better…or however that quote goes." He rubbed at his head and laughed a little as he looked over at her and said, "When did it that I became the optimistic one in this relationship?"

Alex shook her head, saying, "I don't know, but I'm glad you are. Could you imagine us both being depressed and miserable at the same time?"

Bobby thought about that and gave a shudder. "We'd kill each other, like…War of the Roses. Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner, hanging from a chandelier. That's a great movie."

"Let's promise not to get to that point, Bobby."

Looking over at her, he smirked and said, "Okay. I promise."

"But if we do, you better let go first to break my fall," she said as she got up.

The way she said that, so serious but with that slight hint of humor he loved so much, he found himself smiling and thinking that he gladly would. Alex poured them both a cup of the coffee without needing to ask if he wanted one or not. He took the offered cup from her as she sat back down across from him.

"My dad wants to sell the house and move back to the city," Alex suddenly said as she brought the cup up to take a sip.

Bobby looked around he big kitchen and gave a nod. This was a big house for a man like John Eames to keep up with now that it was only him.

"He's already looking into apartments back in Inwood. He has a lot of friends and his sister lives there and he knows the area. It'll be better for him."

Bobby took a sip of the coffee then told her, "If he wants to sell, I know a realtor he can use."

Alex was quiet for a moment before saying, "Or we could consider buying it."

Bobby looked over at her as she glanced over at him.

"I'm not saying to do it, I'm just asking for you to give it some thought."

"I…we have a home, Alex. Two, actually."

"And we can continue to have two, Bobby," she said as she put the cup down and started nursing it between her hands. "You said yourself that you like having the place in Rockaway as a sort-of getaway. So do I. I like being able to go there, and I know now with the summer months it's going to be great to have my nieces and nephew over and have slumber parties and go to the beach on my days off. It's away from the city and all the commotion, it's peaceful. But then having to go all the way to Greenpoint."

"It's closer to the city," he said as he turned the chair so he could rest his head back against the wall and stretch out his legs. "The commute is easier and it's close to the subway."

"So is this house. The only difference is that we're in the middle of the two and it's bigger with an actual yard. There's a garage and room for-"

"We're having one kid."

"And you're not willing to give up your study. Bobby, you don't have another room; we need another room. This house has four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a finished basement. There's room for everyone to have their own space because I'm certain at some point I'm going to need a room to myself."

He looked over at her and saw the lips twist up as she teased him. However, Bobby thought that that actually wasn't such a bad idea. "You're right, you would."

"I was only kidding."

"No, no, I mean it. You're right. I have my study, right? It's a room that I can go to and shut the door and be alone. I need that. You don't have that, except the bedroom when I'm not in it. That's not fair. You'll need a room that you can go to and do…whatever it is you do, to fully relax and enjoy your alone time. We can convert the basement into that space for you."

Alex looked over at him and all he could see was the sudden gratitude in her eyes. "Wow, you actually considered my feelings."

"I've always…" he saw the glare she shot him and had to recant. "Okay, there were times when I would consider your feelings." Bobby sat quiet for a moment as he thought about all of that. Then, he groaned.

"What now?"

Bobby shook his head and said, "It's nothing."

"No, tell me. What're you worried about now?"

"I'm not worried, it's just that…All my life I've lived in Brooklyn."

Alex stared at him in confusion and said, "So?"

"So, now you want me to live in Queens," he said seriously as he stared across the kitchen. "Mets fans live in Queens."

"Oh brother. Now you're upset that you have to tell people you live in Queens and not Brooklyn?"

"I'm a Brooklyn guy."

"They're the same, Bobby," she told him before taking a big gulp of the coffee.

"No they're not," he defended as he looked over at her as he raised the cup to his lips "And don't give me that look."

"You're not making it easy. You sound like a crazy person," she said as she with a smirk. "There is no difference between the boroughs."

Bobby looked at her in disbelief as he said, "You're telling me that you don't think there's a difference? Alex, every neighborhood in a borough is different. Each with their own…uh, flavor, attitude…identity. Brooklyn is in no way the same as Queens."

"They have people, houses, cars, parks, and bodegas and stores just like anywhere else. Yes, some are different due to who lives there and architecture, but other than that, they are the same." Alex finished the coffee and got up saying, "It's not like I'm asking you to move to Boston."

"God, don't ever do that. I couldn't be a New Englander," he said before he downed the rest of his coffee and got up as well. "I'm a mortal enemy of the Red Socks, of New England teams in general. I would be killed for walking around in my Yankee's ball cap."

"It's not that bad." Alex looked over at him and then nodded, saying, "Okay, I wouldn't want to live there either. It's nice to visit the family that I still have up there but after a while I can't wait to get back to New York."

Bobby chuckled as he stepped over to her to give her a kiss. "Another reason why I married you. You know," he said as he rinsed off his cup and then placed it into the dishwasher. "I've been everywhere in the world but at the end of the day the only place I wanted to get back to was here. Most of the people I was stationed with in the Army live anywhere but where they grew up. You know, they live in D.C. or Virginia, Japan, Italy, Australia. Not many go back to places like Brooklyn." He looked over at her, and then around the kitchen as he rubbed at his head. "I guess it's not that bad. It will be more, uh...roomy."

Alex shook her head with a smile and said, "Just keep thinking about it. My dad's not even packed yet." She left him alone in the kitchen as she went back out to look after her father.

Bobby stepped up to the sliding door that led out into the back yard and garage while he continued to think about it.

They didn't stay at her father's house for long afterwards. Her dad had eventually crashed in his arm chair and Alex cleaned up a little before they headed out. Since he was injured she had driven her car. On the way back home, while he leaned his head against the passenger window, he thought back to what they had talked about. Not just about the house but what John was asking him about concerning his father.

Bobby sighed and shifted his head off the window and leaned back in the seat. He was getting tired and it was almost time for his dose of pain medication. Staring out the windshield, he said, "You're dad was right."

She glanced over at him as she asked, "He's right about what, Bobby?"

"I haven't told you the whole truth..." Bobby shook his head and couldn't believe this was happening, "about my father."

Alex was quiet for a moment as she made a right turn, taking them into Greenpoint. "I've heard all I need to know. I've heard you talk to suspects about it. Your dad would come home, smelling of the women he was with, and the alcohol, and then he would leave again. Your father was a rake who had a gambling problem. The man wasn't ideal, but like you said, there were times when he was a good dad and took you to ball games." Alex kept glancing at him, waiting for a validation, before asking, "Right?"

He felt sick. This was something he'd never told anyone; not even his mother or his brother knew what he was about to tell his wife. She had the right to know. She was the only one who had the right to know, he told himself as he willed himself to look up at her. "That's not, um, completely accurate." Steading his voice, and calming his breathing, he told her, "He never took me to a single baseball or hockey game. Not once. That's just what I tell people; what I've always told people, even my own mother and brother think that's where we went. It wasn't."

Alex was quiet again as she focused on driving but he could tell she was a little worried. "So, you did lie to my dad."

Bobby rubbed his hands over his face and nodded. "It's the same lie I've told for, uh...thirty-seven years, Alex, because no one needed to know."

"Okay, so if you didn't go to a game with him, where did you go?"

He rubbed at his head again and sighed. This was the hard part, but he had to get it out. He'd been thinking about it, even having horrible dreams about it, for weeks now. This was something that he couldn't even voice during an AA meeting because it was too painful. And, they didn't need to know about it either. "He would take me to their uh...The first woman, his girlfriend, her name was Maggie uh, something. I can't..." he shook his head at not remembering the name but continued, "Anyway, I would, uh, sit down in front of the television and watch the game while they...you know, went into the bedroom." Looking over at her, he tried to gauge her reaction but there was none except an exhale of breath. "I never had to wait until he got home. I was always there when it happened. Then, we would go home after hours of being gone and...and I had to lie to my mother. I had to pretend that I had a great time. Memorizing every aspect of the game I watched became like a uh, an obsession because I didn't know what my mom or Frank would ask about." Shaking his head he pushed back the anger and disgust at his father, and at himself, as he said, "The burden that he put on me to keep the secret, you have no idea how that felt. What that did to me to have to lie all the time. But, nothing compared to how I felt being there in those apartments. There were times when I would get physically ill every time I had to leave, knowing where we were going. I used to resent Frank for it because he was the only one I could take my anger out on."

Alex looked over at him, confused, as she asked, "Why did you resent your brother?" She turned the car into the parking spot behind the apartment and cut the engine.

"Because," he said as he looked up toward the apartment, away from her, "whenever they left together, Frank and our father, they actually went to a game. Frank would come home with real souvenirs and real excitement. I was the only one my father used for cover. Now I know why." Bobby looked at her and saw the sympathy in her eyes before he looked away. "He hated me."

"Bobby."

"He did, Alex. He knew I wasn't his son and he didn't care about me at all. He used me whenever he could because he knew he didn't have to love me like he did Frank. I was nothing to him. And, and I can finally hate him back without feeling guilty for it because he wasn't my real father."

"You don't hate him-"

"Yes, I do," he said as he stared over at her. "You have no idea how I feel about what he did to me. Hate doesn't even begin..." Bobby felt the rage course through him and it was all he could do to open the car door, rub his eyes, and shut it without slamming it as he over to the door while pulling out his keys.

He was done talking.

Sunday

Bobby & Alex's Apartment

Bobby rolled onto his back and stared up at the dark ceiling. It was a little after one in the morning and he couldn't sleep. His mind was working overtime going over the last few days; everything from his stabbing, the case, Alex and her dad and the baby were running through his head. Running a hand through his hair he sighed loudly and then looked over at Alex who was lying next to him. Through the shadows of the room, he could see her eyes blink at him. She was awake too. Earlier, before going to bed, she had complained of back aches and abdominal cramps. He had freaked a little, but she reassured him that it was normal. She had no bleeding or any other serious symptoms, only the aching.

"How's your abdominal pain?" Bobby asked as he turned to face his wife.

Alex gave him a smile as she answered, "It hasn't stopped hurting, much like your head."

Bobby sighed and reached over to touch her face. "Hurts only a little." Feeling the cool air against his skin, he asked, "Cold?"

"Only a little," she repeated back to him.

Bobby got up and slipped on the pair of sweatpants he had taken off a couple of hours ago when he was trying to get more comfortable. He had stubbornly thought that the lack of clothing might help him fall asleep; it hadn't. Going over to open window, he eased it down as a cool breeze hit his chest. He smelt the rain in the air and saw a flash of lightening in the distance. Locking the window, he went back over to the bed and sat down beside Alex.

"Sit up," he told her as he removed the blanket.

Easing in behind her, Bobby rested back against the headboard. He started to massage her lower back, feeling the muscles relax under his fingers and palms.

She moaned as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder. "You're a God-send."

He smiled even though it never reached his eyes. With his own stress that came with the fears he was harboring deep within his soul over being a father, he couldn't get himself to feel much of anything lately except for worried agitation. And now with being on pain meds, he was stressing over not letting himself slip up again. He was constantly craving a drink, a smoke, and now he was trying not to want to take another pill.

Even Alex couldn't get him to breathe easier, to make him relax, or to make him feel anything less than one day closer to a heart attack. It was no wonder he noticed with each passing week how his hair was starting to grey a little more and his waistband was getting a little bigger. He wasn't taking very good care of himself and he was losing track of his eating habits. Alex had told him that most men put on a little sympathy weight during their wives pregnancy. He figured that was the reason why he was gaining some extra weight, along with the fact that he was getting old. He felt old. He also felt like he was going to be one of those fathers who worked themselves to death and never be around for their child, much like his own father. The only good thing was that he wasn't going to be an abusive gambling adulterer on top of not being home.

"Bobby?" Alex's voice startled him out of his thoughts.

He had stopped massaging her and was apparently staring off into space. Bobby kissed her on the top of her head before easing off the bed. "Want some water or, uh...hot tea?" he asked as he walked toward the door and looked back at her, waiting on the answer.

"Tea, sure," Alex said as he turned and left the bedroom for the kitchen.

Bobby grabbed the kettle off the stove and filled it with water before putting it back on the burner. Opening the cabinet, his hands were shaking as the took hold of the open box of Chamomile tea. The box slipped out of his fingers, sending tea bags scattering all over the floor. "Shit," he grunted out.

He quickly bent down to pick them up and felt his side protest the movement. Grabbing his side, he groaned as the pain flared, it even radiated in his gut, and he collapsed against the bottom cabinet. Closing his eyes, he focused on easing the pain as he breathed through it as he leaned back and pressed his hand against the bandage.

He'd been practicing for weeks; shuffling the cards, getting the routine down, using sleight of hand, and now he was finally able to put it all together as he pulled the card out of his Uncle's pocket and saw the amazed expression on his face.

"Hey, that's my card," his uncle exclaimed as he snatched it out of his hand. "How'd you do that?"

Bobby smiled proudly but didn't answer that as he told him, "A magician never tells."

His Uncle George laughed and handed the card back to him. "You're getting good. Soon you'll be peddling outside on the corner for the big bucks. Hey, Larry! Hey, come see what Bobby can do!"

"I saw! He's a regular Houdini," Larry called out from the kitchen. "Bobby, are you staying for dinner?"

He shrugged as he said, "Okay. I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind."

"I'll give her a call," George told him as he got up and walked around him.

"You don't have to do that," he hurriedly said as his uncle headed to the phone.

George looked back at him and said, "I'm not goin' to worry your ma, Bobby. Have a seat; take a load off your act."

Bobby sighed but moved to sit down on the couch as he reshuffled the deck of cards and glanced over the coffee table that was littered with magazines, record albums, empty beer bottles, and an overflowing ashtray. There was a pack of smokes on the table with only four cigarettes left in them. As he waited for his uncle to call his mother, he leaned tossed the cards on the table and reached for the pack of smokes as the song that played drifted through the apartment.

"I think of all the good times we had, think of all the good times we had. A junkie steals, a mayor deals, who knows what's coming next. Traffic jams and greedy hands, did you read it in the text of the daily news, the subway blues? How does your garden grow and the strikes and the likes, all lined up in a row. Something is wrong here, it doesn't belong here, people are locking themselves behind their own four walls..." the singer's voice sung out from the speaker that his uncle was standing in front of on the phone.

"Hey, Frances," George said into the phone; his voice drowned out the song. "Yea, hey, sis, it's George. I was callin' 'cause…What, of course Bobby's here," he said as he looked over at him. "Oh, he did. Sure, I'll get him on the Double L right now. Yea, talk to ya later." He hung up the phone and turned to him, saying, "She didn't even know you were here. You were supposed to go to the library and then right back home, not come all the way to the Village."

Bobby swallowed hard as he stood and grabbed his baseball hat to leave. It was actually his hat, the one he wore when he played Little League over the spring. It had the number 12 on the back, his number and, right now, it was also his age. "I'll see you later."

"Hey, Bobby," his uncle reached out to grab his arm but he pulled away. "What's the matter? Why'd you come all the way here to the city and worry your mother like that?"

"She's not that worried." Bobby put on his hat as he said, "If she was, she would've called."

"Whoa, wait a minute," George said as he shut the door as he went to open it. "Now, I know you don't think she does, but I know my sister. She worries. This thing with her head, that's...It sucks, I know, but she's still your mother."

Bobby stared at the door and gave a nod. His uncle sighed as he moved away from the door to let him leave.

"Need fare?"

"No, I got it," he said as he walked out of the apartment. "Bye Larry!"

"See ya kid," Larry called out to him.

Bobby left the apartment building and was just about to cross the street when he heard George's voice from up above him. He looked up toward the window and fire escape and saw his uncle leaning out the window.

"Bobby, you fucking thief. You took my smokes!"

"It's a two hour subway ride," he shouted back.

"You're twelve, what'd you need to smoke for? Next time you're here, I'm kicking your ass!"

He waved him off as he turned away and muttered, "Yeah, right," as he continued walking while some of the people out on the sidewalk gave him disapproving glances. He ignored them as he kept going toward the 8th Avenue subway station.

He was right; the subway ride back to Canarsie took two hours as the Double L made stops all the way through the city of Manhattan and the Brooklyn borough. Canarsie was the last stop. He sat in the last seat on the last train car and watched the passing buildings as he smoked one of the cigarettes and thought about how he wished he could've stayed at his uncle's for the whole weekend. It was Friday and it was the last weekend of summer freedom before school started. He would be in the seventh grade while Frank started his sophomore year in high school.

Unlike him though, Frank didn't get much of a summer vacation. His brother was too busy with sports. Having played baseball for much of the spring and summer months and now he was back to practice already getting ready for the football team where he played Quarterback. Their dad never let Frank have too much fun before it was back to practice. That was where Frank was now, with their dad. He had played Little League that year too, but after half the season he had to quit.

The train came to a stop and he heard people getting off and getting on. A group of teenagers got on it a radio. Their voices were loud as they talked and joked as they sat across from him and one of them started a game of catch with a basketball as he threw it down the aisle to one of his friends.

Bobby took a glance at him as he finished his smoke and put it out and dropped it to the floor. He knew the song that was playing because his mom was a Motown fan and she liked Marvin Gaye's voice. Whenever they had been married, his mom couldn't listen to it when his dad was home. He'd remembered once when his dad had actually gotten so mad he'd broken her records out of anger.

Funny, his mom had broken a few of his records out of anger, and possibly madness, as well. Sighing, he leaned back against the seat, brought his knees up to press into the back of the seat in front of him and closed his eyes.

"Father, father, we don't need to escalate. You see, war is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate. You know we've got to find a way to bring some lovin' here today. Picket lines and picket signs, don't punish me with brutality, talk to me, so you can see, oh, what's going on, what's going on. Ya, what's going on, ah, what's going on..." Marvin Gaye's voice sung out into the speeding train car.

He opened his eyes and stared up at the roof of the car. He didn't want to go home. He was trying to enjoy his last weekend before school started; he didn't want to have to spend it with his mother and her weird behavior and demands. Soon he would have to deal with school and then having to go home to his mom every day. She still had some hours working as a librarian but most were being cut back because she would forget, or she would have to go to the clinic, or she made a scene and had to go home.

Rubbing at his sweaty head under the hat, he turned his head to stare out the window as he focused on listening to the music and tried not to think about it. The easy calmness on the train was suddenly shattered as he heard someone start yelling as the door to the other car opened and some other teenage boys walked on. They had a radio with them too. The song that was blaring was one of his favorites, 'Gimme Shelter' by The Rolling Stones and Mick Jaggers voice was singing loudly as the two groups started to confront one another.

"Oh, a storm is threat'ning my very life today. If I don't get some shelter, oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away. War, children, it's just a shot away, it's just a shot away! War, children, it's just a shot away, it's just a shot away!"

He didn't know what started it; it was either the yelling that got louder between the two groups of teenagers or it was over the loudness of the music, but the next thing Bobby knew one of the white boys shouted at one of the black boys and then a fist was thrown.

After that, it was chaos.

"Ooh, see the fire is sweepin', our very street today, burns like a red coal carpet, mad bull lost your way. War, children, it's just a shot away, it's just a shot away! War, children, it's just a shot away, it's just a shot away!"

He jumped up to avoid a boy falling into him as everyone started fighting. Bobby scrambled over the metal and plastic seats as he tried to stay out of the flying punches, kicks, and screaming of pain and hate as he tried to reach the door to the other train car.

"Rape, murder! It's just a shot away, it's just a shot away! Rape, murder! It's just a shot away, it's just a shot away!"

Bobby eventually had to run over the row of seats as he gripped the handle bar on the roof of the car.

"The floods is threat'ning, my very life today. Gimme, gimme shelter, or I'm gonna fade away! War, children, it's just a shot away, it's just a shot away!"

He finally managed to get to the door just as the train screeched to a stop and the doors opened. He didn't care what stop he was at as he took off running out of the car as more yelling started and he heard a cop blowing a whistle.

Bobby's shoes slipped on the subway platform and he slid into the 'wet floor' sign that was placed to warn people about the recent cleanup. He saw the transit officer rushing into the subway car as he tried to break up the fight as he got to his feet. Once he had his balance, he took off along the elevated platform and down the steps toward the street.

Once onto the sidewalk and he could catch his breath, he looked around and saw he was at Livonia Avenue, in Brownsville, and three stops away from Canarsie. "Shit," he cursed as he looked around the busy street.

At hearing the commotion of the fight still going on, he looked up at the tracks above him as he heard the sirens in the background getting closer. He didn't have any more money on him for fare and no way else of getting home besides walking, so he stayed at the bottom the stairs and waited for the police. He could explain that he was on the subway when the fight broke out and hopefully be able to get back on it to continue home.

And that was what happened. Once the cops sorted out the fight and took most of the kids away in the back of patrol cars, he was able to get back on the train. Sitting down and resting his head against the glass window, he waited until the train was moving again to light another cigarette.

Finally getting to his destination, he hurried off the subway. Chained up outside the station was his bike. He unlocked the lock and wrapped the chain around the bike and locked it in place. It didn't take long for him to get home from the station as he rode as fast as he could down the sidewalks and through paths he'd found behind the houses. He got to the apartment building and slid to a stop, letting his bike fall to the concrete as he hurried up the steps and into the building.

Then he stopped at the steps and turned back around to pick the bike up to bring with him. He didn't want anyone to steal it. As he went to pick the bike up he heard a car pull up to the curb. He looked over and saw it was his dad's car. Bobby didn't see Frank in the passenger seat of the '69 Camaro. He stared at the car for a moment then looked at his dad as he got out of the driver's seat and slammed the door as he hurried into the building.

"Dad?"

His dad didn't even look his way. He didn't know whether he should go in or not as he pulled the bike up. Deciding he wanted to make sure his mother was okay, he lifted the bike and stumbled with it up the steps and into the building. He put the bike just inside the double doors and left it there as he started up the stairs to the second floor to apartment 2F. Standing out in the hall he heard the commotion and yelling coming from behind the closed door.

A neighbor, Mrs. Angelo, popped her head out the door of 2H then shook her head as she shut it again. Going over to the door, he was about to open it when it was swung open and his dad stood there, staring down at him. His dad's shirt was unbuttoned and he could see how sweaty he was from the wetness on his undershirt.

His dad looked him over and then back into the apartment. "She needs a doctor." Looking back down at him, he told him, "I've called the Psychiatric Center, the on here on Glenwood. They'll be here to get her soon."

He looked into the apartment and could hear his mom's shrill voice, the words that didn't make any sense to him and the fear in her voice. He bit his lip and gave a nod as he backed away from the apartment. "Um...uh, where am I-I, uh to go? They, the, um, the cops, they don't let me stay here a, uh, alone." He took a breath as he stared at the floor. He always got nervous around his dad, and then the embarrassment from his nervousness always made it worse.

"You can't stay with me. Frank's already sleeping on my couch. How 'bout you go to your Grandpa Rispoli?"

Bobby sighed but didn't try to protest as he nodded. He didn't want to stay with his grandfather. He could've stayed in Manhattan with his Uncle George if his mother hadn't demanded that he get home.

"I gotta go." His dad walked by him and headed down the stairs. "I guess you don't care if your bike gets stolen since you left it down here," William called up from the bottom floor. "You have a lock and you didn't even use it."

"I used it, at the subway," Bobby called down as he walked to the steps as he heard several sirens cut of outside the doors.

A few seconds later the cops were inside and there were two men in white orderly outfits that he'd come to know by name. They knew him by name too.

"You all right, Bobby?" one of the men, Mr. Kelley, asked him as they walked to the apartment.

"I'm fine," he told them as he stayed by the wall until they took his mom away.

"Don't worry," Mr. Kelley told him as they walked by. "It's only for a few days."

Bobby didn't say anything back. He knew that a few days would probably turn into a few months. He followed behind them and watched as they eased his mom into the back of one of the cars. His dad was still on the street, watching them. "You know it won't be a few days, right? I've got school next week."

Turning to him, his dad frowned and sighed heavily much like he did when he was frustrated. Running a hand over his short chopped hair, his dad finally seemed to come to a conclusion as he said, "Go get your stuff."

"I'll be quick," he said excitedly before running up back into the building. He hurried up the steps and into the apartment, grabbed his book bag and filled it with his some clothes and books. He got his money out of his secret hiding spot, which was behind a loose baseboard, and then headed out. He used his key to lock the door before hurrying back down the steps.

His dad had already thrown his bike into the trunk and was waiting for him in the car. Getting in, he put his bag behind the seat as the car started to move. His excitement faded as he realized they weren't headed to his dad's apartment in East Flatbush but to his grandfather's house in Bensonhurst.

"Dad, I don't want to stay there," he finally protested. "It's too far from my school anyway."

"That's what the bike is for, Bobby."

He stared over at his dad as his jaw dropped. "You expect me to bike from Bensonhurst!"

"You have no problem biking to Brighton Beach," his dad said as they grew closer to the neighborhood, "or taking the subway into Manhattan all on your own. What? You think I don't know? Every day I get a phone call from your mother about you. About how you need a father to set you straight, like I'm solely responsible. She just doesn't want to deal with you. How can she, anyway? Whose cigarettes did you steal this time, hm? I can smell it on you. And I know I've caught you sneaking a beer every now and then when you've visited." William looked over at him as he stopped at a red light. "You want to be a big man, don't you?"

He sat back in the seat and stared at the dashboard.

"Yeah, big man who complains that he has to bike to school when I know damn well you won't even go half the time. You'll quit, just like you quit baseball. You want to know why I don't let you stay with me? I don't allow quitters or thieves in my house." William reached over and grabbed the hat off his head and threw it into the back of the car. "Why'd you still wear the hat for if you don't play? Because it has the number twelve on it? Fucking twelve year old, why don't you act like it instead of trying to be such a big, man," he emphasized the words as he shoved him on the shoulder, knocking him into the door.

It was hard to swallow as the lump grew in his throat as his dad went on for the rest of the drive; every so often he would shove him, making him flinch and as the tears welled. When they pulled up in front of his grandfather's house, he quickly got out and grabbed his bag as his dad got out to get the bike out of the trunk.

"Here you go, big man, don't forget to lock it up or else you'll really be fucked," he said as he slammed the trunk closed. "I mean, how else will you get to Brighton Beach or to Boro Park or Manhattan, anywhere but school, right?" William got back into the driver's seat and drove away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk with tears stinging his eyes.

The sound of the steam whistling broke him for his thoughts and as he went to stand, realized that the pain in his side had subsided; however, the pain in his chest was restrictive. Taking a breath, he breathed out and closed his eyes again to fight back the pain at that sudden memory. He finally got up, picked up the rest of the tea bags, and then made Alex a cup with honey.

He took it to her without saying a word before going into his study. He sat down heavily at the desk and leaned forward as he buried his head in his hands while he fought down the urge to drink. It was worse now than it'd been in weeks. There was no alcohol in his house, but he did have a pack of cigarettes in his drawer that he was also resisting to open. His head was pounding and his hands started to shake. It wasn't from any physical pain but he couldn't get his father out of his head. William's constant criticism and belittling and anger and indifference pounded away at his head until he couldn't take it any longer.

Opening the drawer, he took out the pack of smokes. There was a lighter in the bottom of the drawer that he found. Going over to the couch by the window, he eased open the window to let the smoke out before sitting down. As he leaned back he heard a noise at the door. Getting up, he went to the door and barely opened it to let Hugo in. The kitten jumped up onto the couch and meowed at him.

Sitting back down, he ran his hand over the kitten as he tried to relax.

"I've been searching for you. I heard a cry within my soul; I've never had a yearning quite like this before, know that you are walking right through my door. All of my life, where have you been, I wonder if I'll ever see you again..."

"Why are we listening to Lenny Kravitz?"

"Because he's hot and this is a great song," Liz said as she turned to Alex and held up the dress. "Well?"

Alex smiled and looked over at him. "Well?"

He shrugged and said, "It's nice." Bobby took a sip of the water in his hand as he shifted on the stool as the music continued to play throughout the townhouse.

"A sacred gift of heaven, for better worse, wherever. And I would never let somebody break you down, until you cried, never. All of my life where have you been, I wonder if I'll ever see you again. And if that day comes, I know we could win, I wonder if I'll ever see you again," Lenny Kravitz's voice sung as Alex continued to look over the dress.

Liz looked between the two of them and asked, "Do you know what song you're going to walk down the aisle to?"

They both looked at each other and Bobby finally said, "Whatever you want."

Alex sighed and rolled her eyes. "Typical you."

"Alex, I never thought I would ever get married. I have no expectations and men aren't like women, we don't plan our weddings. All I want is for it to be simple and, whatever you want." Bobby reached over and turned the volume down as he heard another voice enter the conversation.

"That's lovely," Emily Eames said as she walked into the room and then looked over at him. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready?"

He looked around at the other women in the kitchen and then down at himself. He was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and a bowtie Rich brought for him to wear, and he still didn't know why he had to wear it to begin with. "I am ready."

"And you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. Its bad luck," Liz said as she glared at him with a teasing smile.

"I've been here the whole time," he protested. "And only the best is yet to come. All the bad happened before I met her," he said as he pointed to Alex. That comment got a couple of 'awe's' before they kicked him out of the kitchen.

Bobby went out onto the small porch and saw the rest of the Eames's clan outside in the small yard. They were setting this up and wrapping streamers and tying flower bouquets to post and the fence. He took another sip of the bottle of water before putting the cap back on it. Going back into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Erdinger Weissbier NA and twisted the cap off.

Before he could make it back outside, Liz came up to him with a red rose and pinned it to his breast pocket. He looked down at it and then at her with a confused look.

Liz just smiled and said, "There, now you're ready."

Alex was no longer in the kitchen and he heard voices, including hers, coming from upstairs. Smiling and shaking his head, he said, "All right," then went back outside.

He spent the time waiting on the wedding to start talking to Junior, Lewis, Rich, and Logan. Angie's husband Mike was away visiting his family and Liz's husband Terry had to work. Bobby heard that Terry and Liz were working things out and he figured that was a good thing. Nathan was going to be their ring bearer while the twins were going to both be flower girls.

Captain Deakins had arrived but was on his cell as he made some calls. He was still on duty and doing this during his extended lunch break.

"So, where's your fiancée?" Logan asked as he checked his watch.

"She probably wised up and took off on him," Lewis said in humor, making everyone laugh except for him.

Bobby glared at his best friend and Man of Honor as he said, "That's not funny."

"I was only joking. C'mon, everyone knows that Detective Alex is crazy about you. Don't know why," Lewis said causing Logan to chuckle.

"I like your friend," Logan said as he patted Lewis on the shoulder.

Emily appeared at the doorway leading into the kitchen and called out to everyone to get ready.

Bobby suddenly had to take a deep breath in order to breathe as he heard those words.

"You okay?" Logan asked him as they walked over to Deakins who quickly got off the phone.

"Yeah," he told him as Lewis stood next to him. "Just...nervous."

Logan smiled at him and slapped him on the back. "You're a brave man. Braver than me."

Bobby smiled a little as Logan took his seat. He looked around at all of Alex's family and her few close friends. He'd tried to get his mother there but she still refused and had yet to forgive him for his blowup with her. Frank couldn't be found and he had tried to see if Declan was home in Virginia, it would've been an hour or more drive up from Virginia, but he wasn't home. Declan was still doing a lecture tour overseas. There was no one else he could call on such short notice but he was okay with it. As long as Alex was there, that was all that really mattered.

He heard the opening violin strings for 'I Don't Want to Miss a Thing' by Aerosmith and felt himself smiling. That was Alex's favorite band, and her favorite song. Looking up from the ground, his eyes went to the sliding door. When he saw her standing there, his breath caught.

She looked absolutely breathtaking. The dress fitted perfect on her body, her hair was up and had flower looking things in it. There was also a red rose in her ear, matching the one Liz and put on his jacket. Her smile lit up her face as she saw him standing there. It wasn't until she started walking that he noticed John was walking with her.

Lewis leaned into him and whispered, "Breathe."

"I know," he said as a rush of air left his lungs.

The song continued to play as Captain Deakins wed them and he had to admit, it was perfect. They also had to replay it as they used it for their first song to dance to as husband and wife.

He was through two cigarettes when he heard a knock on the door. Stuffing the beginnings of the third one out, he moved Hugo off his lap as he got up and went to the door. Alex was standing there, stirring a spoon around in the tea cup she held.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked as he stepped up to her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, are you?"

He looked at her and shook his head. There was no reason to lie, she knew he wasn't. "Why, uh…why don't you go back to bed; it'll be good for you to stretch out."

"What about you?"

Bobby glanced back his shoulder at the study and said, "I'm going to be a while. My head, it's uh..." he waved his hand around tried to come up with the word. "Busy," was the best he could come up with.

Alex looked concerned as she went to protest, "Bobby, you need to sleep and you're not going to get much if you sleep on that couch."

He leaned against the doorframe and reaching out, Bobby wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. Even though Alex wasn't showing yet, ever since he'd found out that she was pregnant he didn't think that she had ever looked more radiant. There was something about her that seemed to make her glow. "You look beautiful," he told her as he ran his hand over her belly, trying to feel any signs of their baby in there.

From what he'd read, the kid was only about the size of a grape and only weighed an ounce. It was crazy that such a small thing could cause him so much stress already. He could only imagine what he'd be like once the kid was actually there.

"I look tired and pregnant."

Bobby chuckled and kissed her head. Looking down at her, he gave her a sleepy lopsided smile. His eyelids were growing heavy and he barely peered down at her through half-closed eyes. "That's what makes you look so beautiful."

Alex raised her brows at him. "Pregnant women turn you on?"

Bobby laughed despite himself. "You turn me on, always. Seeing you like this, I don't know. It's…amazing. You're amazing," he told her.

"If you were trying to apologize, it worked."

"Good," he smirked at her. "And you don't look that pregnant. You're not even showing yet."

"I may not be showing it, but believe me, Bobby, I'm feeling it," she said as she took a sip of the tea.

"So, go lay down. I'm-"

"Fine," she said, cutting him off. "It's two in the morning and you're smoking. That's not fine. But, I do know that there's nothing I can do or say. You need to be able to go through your own emotions over this just as much as I need to," Alex told him. "I'd be a hypocrite to allow myself a freak out and not you. You know I'm here."

Bobby smiled as he said, "I know. And, uh...for the first time in my life I know that someone is actually here for me when they say they are. It's one of the reasons why I know I'm going to be okay. We both will." Leaning down, he kissed her and that was all it took to lure him back down the hall to the bedroom.

TBC…

PS: I had a lot of song references in this chapter and all the credit goes to the artists: Cashman & West, Marvin Gaye, The Rolling Stones, Lenny Kravitz, and Aerosmith. If you haven't noticed already, I love music and I love music in my stories; they can create the mood and atmosphere sometimes better than what I create with words.