Chapter 14: Since I Kissed You

"Things have really changed since I kissed ya
My life's not the same now that' I've kissed ya
Mmm, you got a will about ya
now I can't live with ya"

The Everly Brothers ~ "'Til I Kissed You"

He stood there waiting long after everyone else had left the bars of their cells for the more comfortable options of their beds. What did comfort matter? Bonnie was back.

He loved her. Heaven help him, but he loved her.

He shouldn't. She should have a life, somewhere other than this white-walled underground prison. Somewhere away from the craziness of Alcatraz and its mysteries.

But if Ernest Cobb knew one thing about himself, it was that he could never let go of something willingly. He couldn't let go of the dream of finding his mother until she slammed the door in his face. And he still clung to the shreds of it, shooting his way across the country. He thought he had lost Bonnie forever, once. And he had shot the woman who had brought her in and out of his life.

He didn't know if he could let her go again.

Rebecca Madsen came out of the infirmary, finally, and walked down the line of cells. She found something to say to each of the men, even if they didn't particularly like her. He could see Tommy in her face, now. That steely blue glint in her eye couldn't be anything but hereditary.

"Bonnie's fine," she said without preamble when she reached his cell. "She's sewn up and sleeping now."

He didn't know what to say. It was a malady that happened upon him quite often, possibly a contributing factor as to why he said so little in the first place. The only thing that came to mind was 'thank you,' so he said that.

"You're welcome," she said automatically. "Uh…" she reached into her back pocket, "I assumed that they would have given this to you," 'they' being Hauser and Lucy, "but… obviously," she said, drawing out a yellowed piece of paper, "they didn't. So I am." She held it out to him. "I wasn't lying on that roof."

He reached out and took the single sheet of paper, and she walked back down the line of cells.

'Dear Ernest,

You probably don't remember me, but I was there the day you came to find your mom, who's my mom too, which I guess means we're brother and sister. I'm sorry she was unkind to you. She's never been one for surprises. I read about you in the paper, being in Alcatraz and all, and I figure you're probably lonely. I hope it'll be okay if we're pen pals because I always wanted a big brother to look out for me.

Sincerely, Eloise.'

He sat down on his cot, staring at the words on the paper, willing them to make sense. His mind flashed back to the day he was captured, the words Madsen had yelled to him.

"I know you met your mother. She had a daughter, and you saw her, Cobb! You saw your sister! Did you know she wrote you a letter? Her name was Eloise; she lived at forty-seven Kaylee Street!"

"Go to hell!"

"She wanted to know you. She wanted a big brother–"

"Go to hell!"

… She was sorry?

She wanted a…?

He pressed a hand over his mouth and cried.

Bonnie felt very floaty and tired when she woke up in an infirmary bed, but that was it.

"Well, Miss McAllister, you're the last person I expected to come through that door."

Bonnie smiled. "Hi, Dr. Beauregard," she said tiredly, looking up at him. The older man looked just the same, only a bit paler and whiter.

"How do you feel?"

"Sort of funny," Bonnie said, "but nothing hurts."

"Ah, the wonders of modern medicine," he said dryly.

"Am I patched up now?"

"Yes ma'am. I sewed you up. Now you've just got to heal."

"I'm tired," she mumbled, staring up at him.

"I'm surprised you woke up this soon. You sleep if you need to," he said, sounding kinder than she had remembered. But somewhere in her sleep and drug addled mind, she remembered he had been married with children. And she'd bet money that they weren't here.

She smiled sadly. "Okay," she whispered. "Where's Ernest?"

"In his cell, I imagine," Dr. Beauregard said.

"…Want Ernest," Bonnie mumbled as she drifted off.

The lights were dim when she woke up again. She figured that meant it was night. No one was in the room, but a machine or two glowed faintly. She didn't hurt much at the moment, but then again, she hadn't tried moving.

"Bonnie?"

She turned her head (that didn't hurt, at least) to see Ernest sitting there by her bed, looking like he had fallen asleep as well. "Hi," she whispered. Was she dreaming?

"Do you feel any pain?"

Ah, there he was. Direct and right to the point. Not a dream. "Not at the moment," she said. "Did you…" she couldn't think how to ask this. "Did you get let out of your cell?" Maybe it was the drugs mixing up her words.

"Rebecca let me out," he said quietly. "You're right. She is Tommy's girl." He stared at his hands vacantly.

"Ernest?"

He didn't move.

"Ernest, what's the matter?" Bonnie asked.

"I… I had a sister," he said. "She's dead now."

"I'm sorry," Bonnie said.

"No, that's… that's not the important part," he said. "I went to go find my mother when I was twenty. She hadn't kept me. But she wouldn't even talk to me when I found her. But… she had this girl. A sixteen year old girl." He looked up suddenly, straight into Bonnie's face.

Don't you think it's a little hypocritical of you, since both of you have killed people much closer to my age than he has?

Her words from so long ago came rushing back into Bonnie's mind, and she stared as words tumbled out of Ernest, faster than she had ever heard him talk before.

"She kept her. Not me. I hated her. I just –I just wanted… it hurt, Bonnie. Why not me? Why not me?" his tone became pleading, and Bonnie reached out and grabbed his hand.

He ducked his head, staring at the sheets again. "Every time I shot someone, I saw her face," he whispered. "And I was happy."

Bonnie bit her lip and fought the tears in her eyes. He had acted out in hurt, and it had resulted more hurt for so many more people.

Why couldn't that woman just have loved her son?

"She gave me a letter," he said, and Bonnie got the feeling that he was just spitting the words out now, afraid that if he stopped, they'd never come out again. "Rebecca, she gave me a letter she found. From my sister… Eloise. She said she was sorry for the way our mother had reacted. She wanted abig brother." He finally looked her in the eyes. "Bonnie, what did I do?"

She felt the tears come now, rolling down her face. "You didn't know," she said. "You couldn't've. But she wanted to make amends, it sounds like." Her voice cracked. "She wanted to heal things."
"It's too late now," he mumbled.

"It's never too late," Bonnie protested. "She might never know it, but you can do what she wanted you to do –heal. Be that brother she wanted."

He shook his head. "No, I can't. It's not just her."

"Who, then?" she asked, wiping the tear tracks off her face and reaching for his, careful not to smudge his glasses lenses.

"Lucy. I shot her. She almost died. She should have."

Her hand almost flinched at the dead quality of his words, but she forced it not to quiver or shake. "Why, Ernest?" she whispered.

"She let them take you away."

"Lucy has a very black and white view of the world, Ernest," Bonnie said. "She thought she was doing what was best for me, and besides, the Warden told her to. She hurt me, too, but I can't hate her for it."

"I do."

"But I'm here now," Bonnie said. "Right here. And I'm not going anywhere." She let her hand rest on his cheek.

"You can't go anywhere," he mumbled. "They won't ever let any of us out."

"Ernest… Lucy once told me that she helped the men in Alcatraz because she believed that criminals didn't have to stay criminals. She believed in second chances once. If you can give her a second chance… maybe they can give us a second chance," Bonnie said, staring into his eyes, trying to convey this hope and her faith.

"…For you," Ernest finally said. "I'll try for you."

"Thank you," Bonnie said, tears coming to her eyes again. "It means more than what I ever hoped for."

"You need to sleep," he whispered, reading the tiredness on her face.

"Room for two?" Bonnie whispered, trying to push herself over in the large twin bed.

"I don't want to hurt you –"

"The graze is on my left side. You'll be fine on my right," she whispered. "Please?"

He gave in, and they both fell asleep side-by-side, listening to the rhythm of their synchronized hearts.

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