Eames lay in bed for an hour before finally falling asleep. When she opened her eyes again, the clock read 2:15 and it was still dark. She'd only slept forty-five minutes.
Rising slowly, she wandered into the living room, where Goren slept on his back on the sofabed.
"Ten nine eight seven six five four three two one … ten nine eight … ten nine eight …" He lay perfectly still, repeating numbers as he slept. "Ten nine eight seven six five four …"
Didn't they teach armed forces specialists to count down from ten as a method of withstanding torture? Concerned, she stood over him, waiting for him to wake up.
When he opened his eyes, he looked helpless. He breathed out through pursed lips and kept looking up at Eames.
She switched on a lamp near the bed and he flinched. "I'll take them, I'll take them, okay, I'll take them," he muttered, and she realized that he still wasn't entirely awake.
"Bobby …" Tentatively, she sat at the edge of the bed and ran a hand back and forth across his hairline, just like she'd do for her nieces and nephews when they had night terrors. It was all she could think of to do to calm him down. "You haven't slept in, what, three days? Four days?"
"I have to find her."
"Before she finds me, you're saying."
Goren sat up slowly and struggled to get his bearings. "We're not going to let that happen," he promised.
"I'm not worried," she lied.
"If I were more awake I'd point out every little facial movement of yours that tells me you are definitely worried."
"You okay?" she asked.
"I will be." He squeezed her hand tightly.
Eames put her feet up on the bed. Interesting, she thought, how Goren recoiled slightly and moved an inch or two away from her when she did that. She'd learned from him that every single physical action, no matter how minor, was a "tell" of sorts.
"Can I ask you a question?" she said, and Goren laid his head back. "Do you think I can protect a child from the Colaccis or whoever else might have hired Kreiner?"
"Eames," he said, closing his eyes and letting out another breath of air, "that's not what you're really concerned about."
"Stop reading me. And you'd think if we're close enough friends that we can sit up in bed together and talk about whether or not I should be a mother, you could call me Alex."
Goren smiled slightly as he opened his eyes. "Frank had my mother convinced that you were my girlfriend. That was why she wanted so much to meet you before she died."
"Hey, it didn't take too much to convince my sister Susan that you fathered my child." She paused, realizing why Goren had brought up his mother and brother. "What the hell kind of mother would I be if every time I looked into my kid's eyes I thought, 'those are the eyes of a man who assassinated at least seven people'?"
"Well."
"Did you ever find out?"
"Would it change your opinion of me? Would you request a new partner if you knew my biological father was a rapist and serial killer?"
"No, because I know you're more than just …"
"An unfortunate genetic sequence."
Eames shut the light and laid down next to Goren – not touching him, just facing him. "Try to go to sleep," she said. "You know I promised Ross I'd make sure you were sleeping."
"You didn't even ask if I knew."
"About your father? I thought since you used the name Brady when –"
He shut his eyes. "No, no, I never found out. It'd have been easy enough, but I don't want to know." His eyes suddenly flew open. "Eames."
"It would not make a difference in how I look at you."
"Then there's your answer."
She leaned over to kiss his forehead, a small token of thanks. "You should go back to your own bed," he said, running a hand up and down her arm.
"Why?"
"Because I have dreams about how Frank said to me I should –" The lack of sleep was destroying his ability to censor himself.
Eames was sitting up now. "What'd Frank say?"
"Nothing."
"C'mon, I'm an adult. I won't freak out if you tell me your drug-addicted brother told you it was time for you to just get it over with and have sex with your partner."
She could see him laughing in the dark. "Get it out of my system, were his exact words. You're good, Eames, very good."
Eames finally complied and got out of bed. "Only in your dreams," he thought he heard her say before she disappeared down the hall.
His partner sure had a mean streak sometimes.
