Gradually, the inflammation went down, as Calloway had predicted, and feeling returned to the lower half of his body. Intense physical therapy helped him regain his strength. By the time he was ready to leave the hospital, he needed only the help of a cane, and he wouldn't need that forever. The physical therapy was scheduled to continue, and he worked on the exercises himself. He was making good progress.

He still had not been able to bring himself to discuss his brother. It would wait until he was out of the hospital, so she wouldn't have that to worry about as well. He knew that Logan was right. It was something they had to deal with if they were ever going to get past it and move on. And he needed desperately to move on. All he wanted to do was make sure she was okay, to help her deal with her hate, and then move on with their lives. Above all else, he did not want her to hate...because if she continued to carry that around, eating at her insides...then Bill would have won, and he was not going to let that happen.

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He was laying on the couch, dozing lightly. She had gone out to the store and, much as he didn't want to, he'd opted to remain home. He still had a ways to go before he recovered his stamina and his energy, and he still had a lot of pain to deal with. He really didn't want to overdo it and compromise the progress he'd worked so hard to make.

She returned after an hour and a half with three bags of groceries. She carried them into the kitchen and put them away, leaving out a half pound of spaghetti and a jar of sauce. It was nowhere near as good as Bobby's sauce, but it would do.

The smell of the cooking meal woke him. He turned onto his side and groaned softly when pain flared through his lower back. The doctors assured him that as long as he felt pain, and it gradually diminished, he was fine. So far it had not diminished much, but he'd only been home for a week. He sat up slowly and let himself wake up. Then he got up, grabbed his cane and limped into the kitchen. He stepped up behind her and slid his free arm around her waist, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck.

She rested her hand over his and squeezed. "Feeling okay?"

He straightened and muttered, "Not as well as I want to."

"You have to give it time, Bobby. You walked out of that hospital, and that's an achievement. He didn't win."

His arm tightened around her waist at the mention of his brother. "That still remains to be seen," he whispered in her ear.

With a frown she watched him limp from the kitchen. What could he have meant by that?

She finished fixing dinner and dished it out. Carrying the plates to the table, she hesitated, watching him. He was sitting at the table with his head resting on his folded arms. She set down his plate and ruffled his hair lightly. "Want some medicine?"

"I already took it."

"Then eat. You'll feel better."

She sat beside him and watched as he sat up and pulled his plate in front of him. Sighing, she said, "What did you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"What remains to be seen?"

"Whether or not Bill has won."

"You're alive, Bobby, and you're recovering. You'll go back to work soon. Granted you're not going to be chasing suspects for awhile, but that will come with time. Tell me how he's won."

"I didn't say he did."

"But...?"

"But...how are you feeling? About him, I mean."

Now she understood. She looked down at her plate, pushing the spaghetti around with her fork. She sighed. "I'm very angry. Where does he get off doing this to you...first tormenting you, then trying to take your job, and finally trying to kill you?"

"It's nothing he hasn't done before...well, except for the brutality complaint."

She frowned. "He's tried to kill you before?"

He nodded. "When I was a teenager. He, um...came after me with a baseball bat. He was drunk, and he'd just lost a helluva lot at the track. So he tried to take it out on me."

"What happened?"

"Lewis did. He...helped me disarm him. Then we took off to his house. He...bandaged me up and his folks let me stay until Bill left. He waited for three days, then he left. Of course, when Dad caught up with me, I paid for running off, but I was used to that. Really, Eames...my childhood is not something you want to hear about, and it's not particularly something I want to relive. But if it can help you let go...I'll relive every episode."

"No, no...don't do that."

"Then let it go. You...can't hate him. I'm not going to let you. I hated him for a long time, and it was a raw spot on my soul. It just...ate at me. I will not be responsible for that happening to you."

"How did you let it go?"

He took a few bites as he carefully formed his answer. "I realized that I was using a lot of energy and it was getting me nowhere. It wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it. I forced myself to stop hating him, to stop loving him...to stop feeling anything for him...except pity. That I never managed to get rid of. But it's not a high-energy emotion, so I was okay with that."

"And now that he's gone?"

"There's nothing left. I...made arrangements for him to be buried and now I'm ready to move on."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because he was my brother and it was my responsibility. I don't have to love him to live up to my responsibilities. He was buried near Dad, and that's...fitting."

"When did you make those arrangements?"

"Well, I didn't take care of all of it. I just let Rodgers know the name of the cemetery and agreed to take care of the bill. Mike took care of what I couldn't."

She frowned. "Mike?"

Why would he choose Logan to do that and not her? She didn't have to wait long for her answer. "I wasn't going to ask you to do it. You're too close to it. And after you told me you hate him..." He shook his head and pushed away his nearly empty plate. "I need to lay down."

She watched him get up and limp to the couch. Taking a few more bites, she took the plates into the kitchen and joined him. He was still sitting, so she sat down and pulled his head into her lap. He looked up at her. "I know it's not easy. It took me years. But I have to know you can get past this, or we won't be able to get past it."

"I'm trying. It's just not fair." She gently played with his hair. "I don't understand. My brothers...would never, ever do this to one another, or to anyone, for that matter."

"Your brothers were not raised by my father. They had a good, decent upbringing by good, decent parents. My brother was raised by a mean, alcoholic gambler who had no use for his younger son. At least I still had my mother's love to salvage me, when her mind could allow her to give it. I think she knew Bill was a lost cause, but she felt she could salvage me. And she did. But my real saving grace was Lewis and his parents. I think I turned out okay, in spite of it all. I think I made out better than Bill ever did, because I have you. So something must be right in here..." He tapped his temple. "...and in here." He laid his hand over his heart.

Leaning down, she kissed him. "How can I fight that logic?"

He laughed softly and nestled his head against her abdomen. "Put your energy into me. Let Bill rest in peace...or torment...whichever awaits him."

She sighed heavily. "Torment," she whispered. "Because that's what he left for you."

"I'm not tormented...not much any more. You've chased most of that away. I...I sleep again at night. It's been a long time since I've been able to do that." His eyes were mostly closed when he asked, "Would it help for you to see his grave?"

She hadn't thought about that. "Why?"

"Because if it will cause you any trouble, I'll have Logan go with me."

"Why are you going?"

"I need to say good-bye. I need the closure. And I need for Bill to see that he has not won. I'm alive...I'm whole...and I can still smile."

She kissed his forehead. "I'll go with you."

"One condition."

"What's that?"

"You leave whatever you are feeling in his grave. I need you to come out of that cemetery whole, Alex...or I can never be whole. And then Bill will have won, because he would have taken the best part of you away from me."

"And what part is that?"

"Your heart. A heart filled with hate cannot love."

She nodded. "Ok, Bobby."

She settled back into the couch, continuing to play with his hair and caress his forehead. He readily fell asleep. A heart filled with hate cannot love. Well, she did love him, so purging herself of the hate that remained shouldn't prove all that difficult. She was not going to let Bill win. Not ever.