Push

"I get mad so easy, but you give me room to breathe.
No matter what I say or do 'cause you're to good to fight about it.
Even when I have to push just to see how far you'll go,
you won't stoop down to battle, but you never turn to go.

You stay the course, you hold the line you keep it all together.
You're the one true thing I know I can believe in.
You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me.
You're the one true thing I know I can believe."

Sarah McLachlan

Bobby and Kennedy silently went about their morning routines getting ready for work. She wouldn't say much to him, aside from "good morning." Pulling his tie tight, he headed for the front door. She was still at the counter, finishing her morning coffee. He stood beside her.

"I'll call you later?" He asked.

"Have a good day, Bobby." She barely looked up. He leaned over the counter to her eye level, to get her attention.

"What happened last night?"

"Nothing. I was..." she waved at him dismissively. "Stressed, y'know, anxious. It made me emotional. Must be PMS."

He pressed a quick kiss on her forehead. "Right. If you need to talk later-"

"Have a good day, Bobby," she repeated, then went back to her paper. He nodded and left. Kennedy watched the door shut, then closed her paper examining the date. She ran her hand over the month, the day. She closed her eyes and let her mother's face float across her mind. She let herself go there, if only for a moment..

"Momma," she called through the house. "I'm back." She walked to the door of her parents bedroom and pushed her way in. "I did like you said, I went to the store for you. Momma. Momma. Mommy?"

She pushed the memories far away and opened her eyes. She flattened out the paper. 'I love you, Momma,' she thought. Then she got up and cleaned her plate, it was time to leave for work. She had her moment, she couldn't bear to have any more that day.

Ed sat on his couch. He was completely dressed and pressed for work. His badge, his gun, and his cell phone were on the coffee table in front of him. He was ready to leave. He had been for the past two hours. But he hadn't left. He'd sat down, and stayed. After months of improvement, months of positive thoughts and optimism- despite gaining nothing- he was done. He gave up. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could ever do. His cell phone rang, yet again, and he ignored it, yet again.

Kennedy picked up her phone and called Bobby. He didn't pick up his cell, so she left a message. "Hey, love, sorry about this morning...and last night. It's truly nothing. If you have time for lunch, call." She hung up. A couple hours later, she and Zack pulled aside to one of their favorite deli's for lunch. She still hadn't heard from Bobby, so she called his cell again. He didn't pick up so she didn't leave a message but tried his desk phone. No answer. She sighed. Usually by that point in the day she would hear something from him. If not a brief call, a quick text message. Not that she was dependent on hearing from him every day. They were just moments to brighten her day. But after the night before, not hearing from him in six hours didn't sit right with her. At the end of the day she was in the locker room putting in one last attempt to reach him. "Not sure where you are, Bobby. I'm going home for a hot bath and a can of tomato soup...don't work too hard...or too late."

Kennedy ate her soup and took her bath. She dressed and checked her phone and her answering machine. No word from him. She sighed. It just wasn't her day. She decided to head over to his apartment and see if he was home, or if Ed had heard from him. When she got there she knocked. She had a key, but she hated barging in when she didn't know if Bobby was home or not. After a few spells of knocking, the door opened. Ed looked out at her, squinting at the light. The apartment was dark, mostly, and Ed was still in his work clothes. However, his jacket and tie were gone, his shirt was unbuttoned and half tucked in/half not. His undershirt had a stain of some sort down the front. His pants were wrinkled, and he only had one sock on. He was also very drunk.

"Oh Ed," she sighed. She picked a Cheeto from his shirt.

"Bobby's not home," Ed said. He walked back to the living room where he'd obviously been camped for awhile. Kennedy followed him in and shut the door behind herself, turning the hall light on.

"You been home all day?" She started picking up empty beer bottles and food wrappers. He plopped down on the couch. "Go to work today?"

"No."

"Did you call in?"

"No."

She dropped the trash in the kitchen and went back to him. "Come on, your poor bastard," she said softly. She eased him off the couch and walked him to his room.

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled.

"What doesn't?"

"Nothing," he answered.

"Gotcha," she murmured under her breath. She got him into his room and eased him down onto the bed. He closed his eyes.

"I know, Ken. I know she loves me."

Kennedy sighed and sat by his side. "She does, Ed...but sometimes..."

"It's not enough," he finished. "She'll have sex with me...again and again...but she won't..." Kennedy refrained from letting her mouth drop open at that. It was a new development to her ears. And normally she might beg to hear more, but after her day, and his obvious bad day, she wouldn't press it.

"Go to sleep," she said instead. She stood to leave.

"You gotta tell her."

"Tell her what?"

"Tell her she's it. She's all I want." Kennedy paused at his door. She watched him drift to sleep in his drunken cloud. It broke her heart. She sighed and shut the door, then went to Bobby's room to call him again. She called his cell, no answer. Called his work line, no answer. She decided to call Olivia. It had been a long time since they had spoken.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Kennedy said.

"Hey, Kennedy. I was meaning to call you today. How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yea," Kennedy sighed. "It's...it's a rough day. Never gets easier, y'know?"

"I do. The anniversary of a mothers death isn't supposed to be easy."

"I know," Kennedy agreed quietly.

"So what's up?" Olivia sensed the need for a change of subject.

"You tell me."

"Uh...work?"

"I'm worried about you," Kennedy confessed.

"I've told you not to. I'm great these days. I really am."

"Does that come from sleeping with Ed or just knowing that you're making him miserable?" There was a prolonged silence on the line.

"What did he tell you?"

"Nothing that he'll remember in the morning. I dropped by tonight and he's drunk off his ass. I just put him to bed and he was mumbling and...I heard."

"Drunk."

"Yes, drunk. What's going on?"

Olivia sighed. "Nothing. I...a moment of weakness. Or...many moments of weakness."

"God...look, sweetie, you know I love you, but...stop this. Just stop. Stop sleeping with him, stop talking to him, just...cut all ties. Neither of you can take this. You have to make a decision; you either cut him out of your life completely, or make up with him. No middle road, no 'special friends'. You can't hate him and screw him at the same time. You're fucking him up, you're fucking yourself up. This is all...it's just gotta end, Liv."

"You know, Kennedy, what's gotta end is you giving me advice on this. You're really not a part of it. Not all of us can have what you and Bobby have, stop trying to-" she cut off in the middle of it and changed course. "You suddenly being in a working relationship, doesn't make you an expert."

"Come again?"

"Just what I said. What makes you think you know how to make things work?"

"Don't do this, Liv. Don't take things out on me," Kennedy warned.

"I'm only making a point. Bobby's not the usual guy you go for. Not a jackass, not completely mental, not degrading or mean, oh and not your boss. I'm just saying, maybe you're not the best judge of what I'm doing wrong."

Kennedy took a deep breath. "Hell, you're in a ripe mood tonight aren't you? Yea, I've had my share of bad relationships. So what? I'm in a good one now. And I'm not trying to sound like an expert, I'm trying to be your friend. You know, at least I try. It's a normal thing to date different guys, to look for the right one. And maybe I've looked thoroughly and had some real bad choices, but I tried. As opposed to you, you just hide in your job. There is more to life than work."

"I tried too and look what happened."

"Fine. Be bitter about it. Leave me the hell alone. I'm happy and I won't let you make me feel bad about that. You can't harass an aspect of me that you once admired. I'm sorry that you're going through all of this, and I'm sorry he hurt you. You're screwing up now. A few months ago he was the one who refused to be there emotionally, and now the tables are turned and you're doing it to him. For once in your life, figure out what you need and just...fix it!" Silence was the only reply. Then a dial tone.

Kennedy shook her head. She hated being hung up on. She knew right away that certain things shouldn't have been said, but she was just too tired. It had been a frustratingly tiring day, and after having Bobby ignore her calls all day, getting into a fight with Olivia wasn't making things better. She let out a whine. She just wanted everyone to be happy. It's all she ever wanted. She wanted to curl up and cry her day away, and she wanted Bobby to be home and there for her. She glanced at the clock. It was nearly 11. She hadn't heard anything from Ed's room and felt safe that he was still asleep. She pulled on her shoes and left a trash can by Ed's bed, then went out the door. If Bobby wouldn't pick up her calls, she'd just stop by his work.

She walked into the quiet squad room. She went to his empty desk, looked around, but didn't didn't see anyone. Bobby's briefcase was open by his chair and his desk was a mess. There was no way he wasn't around, he wouldn't leave his desk like that. She sat in his chair, then spotted him emerge from the bathroom and walk over.

"Kennedy," he greeted her. He walked across the empty room, hands in pockets. His tie was missing and the buttons on his shirt were undone all the way down, showing off a faded green-shirt His jacket had long since been abandoned. There were dark circles under his eyes and a messy wave on the side of his head, where he'd repeatedly run his fingers through his hair. His cane was not in his hand. Kennedy noticed this all in one glance. He stopped before her. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Uh, well Bobby, I haven't heard from you all day and it's almost midnight. I was worried," she bit at him.

"I'm right here."

"So I see," she rolled her eyes and stood. She was better off just leaving.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls, but-"

"But you thought it'd be easier to hide here from me," she nodded.

"What do you want from me? You all but ignored me this morning, I have no idea what happened to you last night...what is it you want?" She stood tall, arms at her sides, and stared at him. "That wasn't the first time, Ken. I just don't understand. You were fine at dinner, then later you were just someone else completely."

"It's not something I can explain," she said shakily.

"Try," he challenged, leaning against his desk. She felt like she was at the end of a very thin rope by that point, and she was ready for a fight.

"That would mean you would have to listen to me." She moved to the other side of his desk and picked up his cane and held it in the air. "Like you listen to me about this?"

"Can we stay on one topic at a time?"

"This is one topic, Bobby!" She shouted at him, flailing the cane. "This is all the same! What is it going to take for you to be a man and do what you're supposed to?!" She stepped back around to stand by him while yelling, and gave him a thump in the arm with his cane. His hand whipped out and grabbed the other end of it tightly.

"Do not hit me," he said in a forced calm tone. He pulled on the cane and she pulled back. "Kennedy, do me a favor and either act your age or leave." Kennedy went red with anger. She pushed the cane against him, and it went across his chest tight.

"Fuck you," she said, close to tears. She was inches from him. "I will not do it again, Bobby. I won't. I will leave you before I watch it happen again."

He ignored her language. "Watch what?"

She pushed off from him and went backwards, throwing her arms out. "I won't watch you give up! I won't watch someone else I love give up and die!"

Bobby watched her closely, and he shook his head slowly. "I'm not going to die."

"And you won't let yourself heal either!"

"This about your mom? Look, honey, your mom...she was sick, okay? Me, I'm just-"

"No! I was there! She gave up! She could have fought, she could have kept fighting, but she just gave up and left me! You know nothing about her!"

"Because you won't tell me!"

"You want to know about her?! She died 17 years ago today!" He didn't say anything for a moment.

"I didn't know," he said. "I'm sorry, Kennie, I didn't know." He sighed. "But...she was sick. She loved you-"

She stepped forward, finger in his face. "If she loved me she wouldn't have given up! If you loved me..." she exhaled and her voice went softer. "If you loved me, you wouldn't be doing this to yourself."

A look of hurt crossed Bobby's face, his eyes melted, and his lips failed to form words. He shook his head and turned to gather his stuff. "I can't believe you'd say that," he said, as he threw files into his briefcase. She bent over and picked his cane off the floor and placed it on his desk.

"Yea, I hear that a lot." she replied. She turned and started to walk off to the elevator, but he stormed after her and grabbed her arm and spun her around.

He stared down at her in a glare. "I told you how I felt a long time ago, and it has never been a lie. That's not how I am. Straight forward, that's how we've always played it." She yanked her arm away, glaring back. She had no reply, so he put a hand to her cheek and kissed her lightly. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." She pulled from him and shook her head. "Kennedy." He lowered his face to look her in the eye. "Instead of hating me, can't you just talk to me?"

"I told you what I think, it's your choice to listen or not." She walked away again, and this time he let her go.

Ed rolled over in his bed and opened his eyes. He still felt drunk as he gazed at the red numbering on his clock. It was after one AM and he didn't remember going to bed. He closed his eyes for a sigh, then opened them again. He reached for his phone wanting to talk to one person.

"Yea?" Olivia answered her phone, clearly having been asleep.

"How many times you gonna make me beg?"

She sighed. "I heard you were drunk tonight."

"Maybe I'm drunk, but I'm still me," he mumbled.

"I think you need to hang up and sober up."

"No. I don't need to be sober to know that you're crazy."

"Ed, please. Don't be like this."

"You don't be like this. You're selfish, you know that?"

"Excuse me?"

"I think you like this. You like playing this game."

"I'm not playing a game...I'm not enjoying this."

"Coulda fooled me." He pulled his blankets up and lay back. "Just come over. Come over so we can talk."

"There's nothing for us to talk about. Especially not when you're like this."

"Like what?"

"Drunk! I'm not going to be around you when you're drunk and being mean. You know how I feel about that. Goodnight, Ed. Go to sleep and...just...don't call me." She hung up on him. He groaned and rolled over.

"Selfish, selfish..." he grumbled as he went back to sleep.

Kennedy made it home, but only as far as her front steps. That's where Bobby found her when he finally left the station and went to her apartment. She was leaned back against the wall, with her feet outstretched on the step. He stepped onto the step below the one she was on, and sat identically beside her. They both stared straight ahead and neither spoke, waiting for the other to say something. Finally, he broke the silence.

"When I was in the hospital, I had a lot of time to think," he said quietly. "I considered all of my fears; that I would never walk again, that I would loose my job, and that if no one loved me before the accident, there was no way I'd find someone to love me in a wheel chair. I thought it was over for me, and all because of my job. Because one person hated me enough to have me shot. Not kill me, but just...hurt me. And she did hurt me. Physically, mentally and emotionally. Day after day I lay in that bed thinking...it was over. And then it wasn't. Then...I was okay. And all I wanted to do was put it all behind me and move on with my life. I hate that I harp on the past...it's the worst part of me. And...damn if this...this," he held the cane before him, "piece of wood isn't a constant reminder of what I didn't have before the accident, what I almost lost and...and how now, everything is different for me. Now, I have you. You have changed everything, and I don't want to remember how miserable and...absolutely nothing I once was." He set a hand on her leg. "And I know that it's stupid, and I know that I need to get over it and let my back heal properly...but it's hard. I'm just ready for that part of my life to be over."

She placed her hand over his. "I'm glad you want to be this new you, but...don't risk it. Not for me. I don't..." she dropped her forehead on top of their hands. He put his head to hers, and wrapped his other hand around her neck, embracing her. He felt her shaking again. He was so used to the brazen outgoing Kennedy, that when she broke down like that, he almost felt as if he didn't know her whatsoever.

"I do love you Kennedy. I'm going to get better, the right way, because of you. Because you are worth it, okay?" He soothed. He sat up and gently pulled her face from her lap and made her look at him. He brushed her hair out of her tear stained face and smoothed it back. He held the sides of her head and looked at her softly. "We're good. You and me, we're good. The past is over. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you today. I should have been." He ran his thumbs over her cheeks. She nodded and pushed her forehead against his. "Let's go inside, okay?" He asked. He stood and helped her up.

They went up to her apartment and he used his key to let them in. He locked the door behind them and took her to her room. When she was changed and in bed, he sat down with her. He remained quiet, giving her time. Finally, she was ready to speak.

"I'm sorry. I..." She sat up and leaned back against the headboard. "Mom fought for her life for years...it was on and off...and then one day...Dad didn't come home from work. He worked two jobs, and was always at work. I was at home doing a lot of housework, taking care of Mom. Missing a lot of school. Dad just...went to work one day and never came back. His jobs said he didn't show up there." She shivered, though she wasn't cold. He put an arm around her waist and held onto her. "I got to go tell my sick pain-filled mother that my dad...her husband...left us. That he was gone. She cried for a week. I didn't. Just took care of her. And then one day, she stopped crying. I thought..." Kennedy made an unhappy groaning noise, as though it hurt to finish what she was saying. "You hear about people that give up and let their bodies win, but...she called me into her room...she was so pale and sad...she had me sit at her side and she told me she loved me. She told me I was her angel...and she asked me to run to the store for cookies. She wanted cookies and I wanted to please her, so I went. And when I got home..." her voice wavered again "when I got home, she was dead. They said it was probably an accident...that she was just in so much pain that she took one too many pain meds, but I wasn't an idiot. He left and she gave up. Sent me to the store and...gave up. We knew she wasn't getting better, and he didn't care. He left me then she left me. I just...don't want you to give up. I'm sorry, I try...I really try to not let that piece of me...but..."

"I don't expect you to hide the damage. I know I can't hide mine. We just...we deal with it." He pulled her down, so that she was laying against him. "I'm sorry they left you," he whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry."