Annie Johnson watched as her patient slept fitfully. So far, after four days in the hospital, the only time he slept peacefully was when he was heavily sedated. She knew what had happened to him, and felt horrible. She was very empathetic to her patients, and had already taken a strong liking to this one. And because of the horrendous things that had already befallen her patient, she became very protective of him, like a mother bear protecting her cub.
Bobby would have nothing to do with anyone. When he was awake, he stared at the spot where the ceiling and the wall met; mostly he feigned sleep. On one such occasion, Annie watched, and though his eyes were closed, it was impossible not to miss the tears that slowly leaked out. She sat down gently on the bed beside him, and gathered him into her arms.
"It's okay, baby, it's gonna get better. I promise you, it's gonna get better." Bobby lost it then, and as she stroked his hair, he cried openly into her ample bosom.
Annie soon became the only person Bobby would communicate with at all. If you could call what he was doing communicating. He was refusing to speak to a therapist at all, and as yet, had refused any and all visitors. He spoke minimally to his doctors, managing at the most, a yes or no. And sometimes not even that. The doctors just had to guess at how he was feeling. Worst yet, he absolutely hated when the doctors had to examine him, he made no eye contact, and gave no indication that he was aware they were even there. He completely shut down.
On one occasion, after the doctors examined him and left, Annie cradled his head again as he cried. "It's alright, Baby, it's alright. You cry, Baby, and get it out, Annie's not gonna let anyone else bother you today." She rocked him gently back and forth. "It's going to get better, baby, you'll see," she whispered to him. She had taken to calling him "Baby"or "Babyboy" and for some reason it was a comfort to Bobby. Maybe it was because he liked Annie Johnson, a large black woman raising three children on her own. He felt safe with her. She was more comforting to him in the short time he'd been in the hospital so far then his own mother had ever been to him.
"How, Annie?" Bobby whispered through his tears. "How can it ever be better?"
Annie ran her fingers gently through his curls. "It will, Baby, you'll see. After a while it won't hurt so much, and then things will start to get better. You'll see," she promised.
"When is it ever going to just stop hurting?" He was still whispering, as if afraid to let anyone hear him. Physically, Bobby still hurt tremendously. His other injuries were bad and caused him a lot of pain, but the damage done to him by the rape was horrible, they had literally torn him apart. The absolute worse, though, was being sodomized with the broom handle. What had been left after the sodomy had caused him to nearly bleed to death, and the doctors had a difficult time repairing him. That was the worse. Every little movement caused extreme pain. He couldn't imagine anything hurting more.
"Soon, Babyboy, it'll go away soon. Give it time. Now I'm going to give you some pain medication, and I want you to sleep. Okay, Baby?"
Bobby watched gratefully as Annie injected the solution into his IV, then fell into a blissful sleep. "My poor baby boy," Annie thought.
0O0
Alex was extremely reluctant to return to her house, and in fact, wasn't allowed to, even after the csu techs were finished. Neither Deakins nor her father would allow it, and Deakins placed a few guards around, just in case McFadden decided to make a return visit, although that was very unlikely. When she did return, the first couple of nights her father and brothers alternated staying in the spare bedroom. And Alex slept on the couch.
Getting up one night, John saw his daughter still up, staring at her bedroom. It was two a.m.
"Honey, you've got to go in there sometime," he said, putting his arm around her.
"I've been in there," she mumbled.
"Yeah, for two minutes, to get some clothes to take to the other room so you wouldn't have to go back. Alex—"
"I can't, Dad! I just can't! You didn't see what they did to him! They beat him, then they dragged him in there…and…and—Dad! They tied him to my bed!" She burst into tears again, and her father held her in his arms. "Alex…"
She pulled away. "Dad, it was so horrible! They stripped him, and they tied him down. He couldn't move, and they…they hurt him…Dad! They hurt him so bad!" She broke down once again.
"I know, honey—"
"There was blood all over—the mattress, the posts, everything!"
"And that is why we got you the new bed. There's no footboard, or posts at all. Absolutely nothing like the old one. And we replaced the carpet…"
Alex looked at her father. "I know, Dad," she said softly. "Thank you. It's just…I don't think I can ever go in there. I'm not sure I can even stay in this house at all. Can I just stay with you and Mom for a while? Till I can…sell it?"
The idea of selling her house bothered her, too. She had worked hard for many years to be able to have her own place. And she loved this house.
"Sure, honey, of course. If you're sure."
"I am, Dad. After what I did to Bobby—"
"Alex! You did nothing to Bobby! It was that bastard McFadden! It wasn't your fault! Please, honey, you have to know that…"
"Then why do I feel like it was? Why won't Bobby speak to me? Dad," she said, very quietly, "Do you know that I was the one who handcuffed him?" She started crying softly again.
Her father took her in his arms again. "Alex…Honey, what happened was about the worst possible situation that could have happened. You had no choice. If you hadn't done what you did, little Nate wouldn't be with us today. And I am so grateful for that."
"I know. But Bobby…?"
John Eames sighed. "What happened to Bobby was terrible. But Bobby knew the chance you take when you join the police force. And when you're as good as he was…is…you're bound to make enemies. This guy just had it in for Bobby, bad. And if somebody really wants to get to you, they will, and they will use any means available to them. You, unfortunately, provided the means. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. But, regardless, it would have happened at some point with a nutcase like that."
"Why? Why did it have to be me? Dad, Bobby's never going to see it like that! All he knows is that I was the one who handcuffed him and gave him to McFadden!"
"Alex, Bobby's a smart guy. After the initial pain and hurt is over, he'll realize, and he'll come around. It's going to take time, honey. Just give him time."
Alex nodded mutely, too choked up to speak. But will he ever trust me again?
0O0Bobby was being monitored very closely for any signs of infection, and the more days that passed, the less likely it would become. But they were not taking any chances; even the slightest infection could prove deadly. And so far the results were good. More good news was that the hiv test that Bobby had been given had come back negative. Of course, he still wasn't out of the woods on that. Sometime down the line he'd have to have another test done before he could be deemed totally free of that terrible disease. This was something Bobby had never imagined for himself, taking a test for hiv. This left Bobby feeling ashamed that a test had been necessary, extremely worried about the outcome, and more than a little resentful. He was becoming more withdrawn, and had everybody worried. He still refused to speak to anyone, including anyone from Special Victims.
Not long after, Annie came into his room to find Bobby's face turned, staring angrily at the wall.
"Baby, why don't you talk to someone? You're gonna have me start worrying over you. If you want, I can have Doctor talk to you."
Bobby wouldn't even look at her.
"Baby, if you don't talk to someone, it'll just delay your return to work. And I know you don't want that."
Bobby finally turned to her. "What makes you think I would even want to return to work?" he said bitterly. Then he turned back to the wall, closing his eyes, doing whatever he could to shut out the entire world.
Annie went and sat by him on the bed, stroking his hair. "I know you don't mean that, baby. You're just hurting now. I promise you it will get better." And as much as Bobby wanted to remain bitter and angry, there was something about Annie that just comforted him so much.
Annie was no doctor, nor a psychiatrist, but she had a way with her patients, and was determined to do whatever she could to help this big detective, whom she'd come to care for as one of her own.
And she wasn't the only one feeling that way. Getting Bobby back on his feet and ready to reclaim his life seemed to be everyone's focus, because the alternative was just not an option.
tbc