Chapter 25

She tried to cooperate with her siblings, she really did. Inevitably, every business meeting between the three ended badly, with Alex spouting off some snarky comment that threw her sister into either tears or a rage and left her brother trying to patch up the rift. It was exhausting.

John, for his part, was hanging on. He was back in the nursing home, but he was sleeping more and less alert when he was awake. When he spoke, he told stories about his wife, and stories from his days on the force. He smiled when Katie was around, but not with the enthusiasm he had before.

Bobby and Alex brought Katie to visit him nearly every weekend. Bobby was also seeing him every Tuesday night that he could break away from work. Bobby entertained him with the lighter points of squad life: breakroom gossip, locker room pranks. Most of the time, Goren made sure the old man had a decent shave and rearranged his knick-knacks so he could enjoy them fully. Now and then, Mr. Eames would give him a quiet gem of wisdom.

"You went to see Dad, didn't you?" she asked him as he pulled away from her embrace.

He nodded and looked around nervously. "Y-yeah. How-?"

"You smell like the room."

"Oh." Bobby undressed and piled into bed beside her, giving her a chaste kiss. "I like to go see him," Bobby said. "I want to spend some time with him before…"

Alex patted his chest. "You're a good man," she said quietly, and turned over. "How was he?" She asked as her husband moved closer to spoon against her in the bed.

"It… it wasn't a good night."

Alex clasped his hand and gave it a squeeze.

Bobby continued, "he just didn't really wake up for me tonight. I gave him a shave, you know, but he didn't wake up." He felt her draw in a deep breath. "Alex," he said softly, "I know how hard it is for you… but I think you should spend more time with him." She stiffened at his words, and he regretted saying them.

"I can't, Bobby. I see him every weekend. I barely see you and Katie, how am I supposed to make more time for Dad?"

"I just don't want you to regret it later," Bobby said, and he frowned when she wriggled away from him to the other side of the bed.

"I appreciate your concern," she said coldly.

"Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ, Alex!" He exclaimed. "I'm your husband, if anybody can talk to you about this, it should be me!"

"You did talk to me about it. And we're done."

"No, we're not anywhere near done. Look, I know how much this hurts, Alex, but you're hiding from it. You're making every excuse you can to avoid it, to avoid him, because it hurts. And mark my words, you will regret it."

"Are you done now? I don't need you or anybody else telling me how I feel. I know how I feel, Bobby. And believe it or not, I know Dad's going to die. And I know there's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"So why don't you go see him, then?"

"I see him every weekend!"

"You know what I mean. Rearrange your life, Alex. Make the time."

"And next thing you know, I'll have you whining about needing more time to yourself again."

She struck a nerve, and he got out of bed. Bobby clamped his mouth shut and forced himself not to take a step. Instead, he rocked from one foot to the other and back again. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

She wrestled with the covers and buried her head under them.

Suddenly something John Eames had told him slipped into his head. "You're married now, and you love each other more deeply than you knew you could. Just remember you have the power to hurt each other that deeply, too." Goren kept his mouth shut. He took a step forward, reached out, and drew the covers back. He got back in between the sheets and laid there stiffly, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

She crawled out of her cocoon and sat up to look at him. "Fuck!" She growled, took her pillow, and left the room.

Bobby groaned and buried his face in his own pillow.

Alex Eames was unaccustomed to sleeping on the couch. She woke up 10 minutes earlier than usual, stiff and sore in places she'd forgotten about. She was in pain, both emotional and physical. She forced herself to her feet and marched to her bedroom to shower and change.

He had no blankets over him; they were twisted and tangled and half lying on the floor. He was curled into a ball, the smallest a big man like that could make himself, and she might have laughed at the sight on any other day. Today, though, she was surprised when she felt a pang of fear. She hadn't chased him away. He was still here, waiting, with his arguments and his point of view.

And the sad thing was… he was right. She'd known he was right as soon as he'd said anything; before he'd said anything. She was avoiding it all as much as possible. She didn't want her Dad to die, didn't want to see him wither away to nothing. She didn't want to plan for life without him. Yet she knew there would be life without him.

Alex walked past her husband and got into the shower, where the tears would mix with the water running down her face and no one would know.

"Hi, Dad," Alex said quietly, summoning up a smile for him.

"Alex," he said hoarsely. His cough had been getting worse again.

"I wanted to come by and see you," she said sweetly.

"Bobby comes on Tuesday."

"I know. He likes to have his 'man time' with you."

The old man coughed and tried to get comfortable. "Katie just had valentine's day with her class," Alex said. "I've never seen so much candy in my life. How did you and Mom manage that with us?"

He smiled, and coughed. "I took a jar of candy to work. I was the most popular cop in the precinct until it was gone."

"You stole my valentine's candy?"

"Did you ever miss it?"

"Well, sometimes I wondered where my favorite went, but I always assumed Johnny ate it…" She laughed at the memory, and he gave her a smile. He coughed again, and soon fell asleep.

Alex leaned down and kissed his cheek.