A/N: I want to thank all the new people who have reviewed this story and to all my loyal reviewers! Also, thank you to everyone reading my story!
As soon as Bobby stepped into his apartment, he slung his duffel bag into the corner by the door and choked on the smell of dust and stale air that assaulted him. He took a once over his apartment and shook his head at the dust accumulation around the places that Lewis didn't clean or even get near, like his bookshelves. He was going to kick Lewis's ass.
"I'm going to have to hire a cleaning lady," he mumbled bitterly as he headed toward his bedroom.
Going down the hall to his bedroom, he was afraid to open the door with fear of what awaited him. To his relief, it was clean and it seemed like the bed hadn't been slept in for days. He pulled out clean clothes from the dresser and grabbed a button-down flannel from the closet and headed straight to the bathroom.
The hot water from the shower seemed to ease his tight muscles and relax him as he washed furiously at his arms with rubbing alcohol. Water mixed with dark colors that slowly disappeared from his arms, leaving his natural skin underneath. For one day a month for the past year he had to have the fake tattoos redone to keep them from fading and now he was finally able to scrub and scrub until they completely faded for good.
After he cleaned himself up, he dried and pulled on a pair of boxers and blue jeans before lathering his face with shaving cream. It was finally time to shave and he couldn't have been happier to run that razor along his face. If it hadn't been for the fact that he spent a year undercover as Donovan with that look, he probably wouldn't have minded keeping it. However, he needed to start feeling like his old self again, back to being strictly Bobby Goren, and in order to do that he had to kill Donovan for good.
It didn't take long before he splashed his face with warm water and looking in the mirror he saw himself and only himself. He debated about trimming his hair, keeping it short, but he didn't feel like it. Fuck it, he would let it grow out.
As he left the bathroom, he tugged on his white t-shirt and pulled on his flannel. Turning on the stereo, he let whatever CD Lewis had in it play while he ventured to the kitchen. He pulled out a beer from the fridge as he tried to figure out what to do first.
He had nothing to do; not a thing. Going through his bills he saw that Lewis had been making sure they had been paid on-time and the cabinets were in pretty good shape with food. The place did need cleaning; he figured he could do that while he also did the laundry that he had been neglecting for over a week.
The music by 'The Cure' was definitely not helping as it was depressing the hell out of him. He turned it off and went over to the window that was to the fire escape and pushed it open. Staring out at the streets of Brooklyn, he smiled at the familiar sights and sounds of the neighborhood. He missed home.
He hadn't felt this relaxed and comfortable since the last time he was with Alex at her apartment. Bobby immediately tensed at the thoughts of her that invaded his mind. He couldn't imagine what she was thinking or feeling just then. The more he thought about her, the angrier he got with himself. He thought that he was betraying her because he knew that he was alive and well and she didn't. The last time she saw him, he was being strapped down on a stretcher and being loaded into an ambulance.
She had to be furious with him for not telling her about it. He had the opportunity to take her aside and explain to her how the bust was going to go down, that they were going to have to shoot him and pretend that he had died. Alex wasn't supposed to have been there, she wasn't supposed to see him like that.
Christ, her husband died the same way except his death was real and Donovan's was just on a piece of paper. How could he make her relive that horror all over again? What kind of man did that make him?
She had to know that it wasn't real, that it had been part of the plan. She had to know that he was okay…
Getting up, he found his cell phone on the bathroom counter where he had placed it when he showered and flipped it open. Strolling through the numbers, he found Alex's cell. Running his thumb over the numbers, he felt a desperate need to call her, but also fearing the call. She was probably taken off of her undercover job as well and she could be at the department. He didn't know what to do because he was conflicted with what he wanted.
He strolled back into the living room with the cell still open in his hand as he stared at the number until it blinked off. He was taking too much time wrestling with his warring heart that he was losing the nerve to call. Fucking coward, he mentally kicked himself as he tossed the phone on the kitchen counter.
Alex stood in the observation room staring at Rick's cocky smile as he was trying to deny his involvement in the child prostitution ring. She felt her stomach turn as he mentioned Bobby's name and her anger flared at the implication he was making toward the man she knew to be a detective. Rick's lies weren't going to fly far as she saw an FBI Agent enter the room and sit down next to Jacobs and his partner Mitchell. When the Agent presented a file in front of Rick and pulled out a piece of paper, she watched with a sense of satisfaction as Rick paled and finally shut his mouth.
"Good job, Alex," her captain told her as he walked into the room.
She looked over at her captain, Manning, and smiled. "It wasn't me."
Manning shook his head at her dismissal. "You got him on film that night when he left with that girl, Maria. If you hadn't done that stake-out, we wouldn't have been able to prove that he knew about it before today. And with the documents Mrs. Vincennes gave up implicating everyone involved…Whoever that undercover was with Narcotics, he did a damn good job…"
Alex tensed at the mention of Bobby and looked down at the floor. She was certain that his death, well Donovan's, was part of the plan they had. They had to get rid of him somehow, and that was a reasonable way of doing it.
Still, she wished he would have told her about it, trusted her enough to warn her. Instead, she had to see the scene unfold outside the club and watch in fear as he was being brought out surrounded by medics and being strapped down to the stretcher.
Her fear and worry spiked when she saw that he was actually in distress. Bobby was good, but there was no way he could have faked the pain and sheer panic and terror on his face when he was being held down. There was something wrong with him for real. She had no idea if the cop that had been assigned the job to shoot him actually missed the vest or if it was something else.
The doctors couldn't tell her anything and neither could the police; for the sake of Bobby's safety once he was reinstated with the PD, it couldn't be talked about or discussed outside of the department.
She would just have to wait and see if he tried to contact her while he was off work for his transitional period out of the world of undercover Narcotics officer. Alex didn't like the prospects of that happening at all; knowing Bobby, or at least knowing his fears, he wouldn't contact her while he waited his fate with the PD.
He would sulk and push everybody away. Bastard. Moron. Idiot. Alex sighed as she shook her head. He may have been all those things at the moment, but he was also one of the best men she had ever known, and the best and the only other lover she has had since her husband. She couldn't shake the anger in her, nor the sense of betrayal she felt at his inability to trust her and to show her the same loyalty she had shown to him.
In a way, she was glad she didn't have to work with his stubborn, unstable ass anymore. He would just cause her nothing but grief in the long run. Yet, she was missing him like an addiction. Bobby was driving her crazy and he wasn't even there with her. As she turned and started to leave the observation room, she wondered if she would ever find out his real name or if they were destined to know who they really were or not.
She stopped just outside the door and turned to face Manning. "Captain, I would like to go ahead with my request to transfer out of Vice now."
Manning eyed her for a long moment before asking, "Are you sure? You love it here."
She nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. It's time, and with this case nearly finished…I'm ready for a change."
He smiled slightly as he followed her out of the room. "Was it Major Case that you were requesting?"
Alex nodded as she walked in-step with her captain to his office. "I think I earned my right to be there."
"That you have. Well, if they accept your request, we're going to miss you. If you ever want to come back…" He let the offer stand as he opened up the top drawer in his desk and pulled out the transfer she had filled out nearly two months ago. "I'll send this right over to 1PP. Why don't you take the rest of the day off; paperwork can wait until tomorrow."
Alex thanked her boss and headed to her desk to pack some things to take home. Hopefully soon she would be cleaning her desk out for good with Vice.
Bobby was asleep on his newly washed sheets when his cell phone rang. He grumbled into the pillow and searched around the nightstand for the phone. He had two cell phones, his real one and the one he had used while undercover. The 'Donovan phone' as he called it would have to be turned over to the PD to be cleaned out and then discarded. It was his real phone that was ringing. That was a very good thing because he couldn't answer the other one due to the fact that Donovan was now a dead man.
"…'ello," he grunted into the phone. It was Fin and Bobby smiled at his friend's voice.
"You awake, Superman?"
Bobby chuckled as he closed his eyes and stretched out on his back. "Ye--," he muffled a yawn with his right hand as he tried to wake up. "Mmm, 'm awake." He rubbed a hand over his face and blinked up at the vaguely familiar sight of his ceiling. "What's up?"
"I'm getting off work. Wanna meet for that drink you owe me?"
Bobby frowned into the phone. "I owe you shit. I saved your life, man, you owe me."
Fin was laughing as he told him, "Alright, you win. I'll buy the first round. We're heading over to the bar now." He didn't have to say which one; they went to the same bar after work. It was a cop bar and everybody knew the place.
"Yeah…And who's we?" Bobby asked as he slowly got out of bed and looked around for the jeans and flannel he had tossed somewhere.
"We, as in the department. They heard about your transfer and they all want to see you off."
Bobby huffed out a laugh. "More like celebrate the fact they don't have to put up with me anymore. Hey, just 'cause I put the transfer in doesn't mean I'm gonna get it."
"Stop with the negativity. You'll get it. Deakins liked you, a lot."
"Doesn't mean the Chief of D's likes me, and he's the one that has the final say." Bobby found the clothes he was searching for on the floor in the bathroom and started dressing. "Give me, uh…Give me about twenty minutes and I'll be there."
"Please, you can't make it from Brooklyn to here in twenty by subway. I'll see you in an hour."
Fin was right, it took him about an hour to get to the bar and it was packed, putting him on the edge of awareness and sanity. He hated packed bars and clubs and now since working in one, he really didn't like them. His head was starting to pound a little but it was nothing that a good shot of whiskey couldn't cure.
Andy, the bartender and owner, had the best shot glasses he had ever seen in his life. The glasses were from Sweden and they were round on the bottom, so he couldn't sit the shot down and take his time drinking it. Slamming the shot back, he handed the glass back to Andy and picked up his re-filled glass of Scotch and headed back over to the pool table where Fin was waiting for him.
It was a maze trying to get around everyone. Some of the people he recognized from the Narcotics department, others were new faces to him, and all of them blurred around him as he ungracefully stumbled his way across the floor.
"What took you so long, trying to avoid my mad skillz?"
Bobby smirked and leaned against the wall as he eyed the pool table. "I was giving you a chance to walk away."
Fin gave him a mocking smirk of his own and tossed the rack onto a table against the other wall. "I'll break."
"And scratch," he quickly added as Fin took the shot. To his dismay, Fin knocked three balls in on the break. "Shit."
Fin won the first game, but the second was his since Fin was too distracted by a woman who was a homicide detective from Queens that he used to date. Bobby watched his partner try his charm on the woman only for her to accept the drink he bought but took off a little later with a group of women the detective had come in with.
"You see that!"
Bobby chuckled as he finished off his Scotch and walked pass Fin, toward the bar to get another drink. "I saw a very smart woman diss your ass."
Fin glared at him as he picked up the rack and went to re-rack the balls for another game. The tie breaker game. "You're lucky I like you, Goren. And while you're at it, get me another beer."
Bobby maneuvered his way back to the bar and paid Andy for this Scotch and another beer for Fin. As he waited, he ventured slowly but surely over to the jukebox and took his time reading through the music selection. As he made a few choices, he felt someone brush up next to him. Looking down at whomever was standing next to him, he smiled at the woman he saw standing there smiling up at him.
"And just where have you been for the past year?"
Bobby shook his head at his ex-girlfriend Lola. He had dated her for a brief time before he went undercover. "Been…busy, workin'."
"Where, Mars?"
He wished; it would have been less dangerous. "What can I say, they made me an astronaut and launched me into space," he told her dryly as he headed back over to the bar to pick up his and Fin's drinks.
Lola was following him. "So, Bobby, are you here for good or are you going to disappear on me again?"
Bobby glanced down at the woman. Lola was standing really close to him, leaning into his right side and giving him that smile that used to drive him crazy, but right then the tall brunette wasn't what he wanted. She was too much and not enough of what he was craving. "I didn't disappear on you. We weren't seeing each other anymore and I didn't think I had to call you to let you know that I was working."
She rolled her eyes at his frustration. Now Bobby remembered why they didn't work out, she didn't have the patience for him. A lot of people didn't. "Save me the melodrama, Goren, all I want to know is if you're going to buy me a drink."
He laughed at that. "No, all you want to know is if I'm going to take you home." Bobby downed half the drink in his hand before he started to walk away from her.
Lola stopped him with a hand on his arm; her eyes were sparkling as she playfully asked, "Are you?"
Bobby smiled sweetly as he leaned down closer to her and told her as gently as possible, "Like I said before, you're too good for me. And besides, you still got those damn cats. I can smell 'em on you." He heard his words starting to slur and knew that he was getting close to drunken oblivion. Turning, he left her standing there stunned as he found his way back to the pool table.
Fin was watching him as he un-charismatically stumbled up to the pool table and sat the beer bottle down hard on it. He whistled softly before telling him, "Whoa, that girl looks pissed."
He was confused for a second before he glanced over his shoulder and saw that Lola wasn't giving up on him that easily. Bobby dropped his head and sighed in annoyance. He had to give it to her, she was persistent.
"Why don't you take her up on her offer?" Fin asked him in confusion. "You've got to be jonesing for some action. Hell, if I was undercover for a whole year and then a girl like that approached me, I'll want to get a lil' somethin' something'."
Bobby stared hard at Fin and didn't know if he wanted to laugh or hit him. "I don't want a little anything from her. We used to date, man. I don't want to…start anything. Besides, she doesn't want one night; she wants me to marry her."
Fin was chuckling by now. "Please, right now, she'll take a minute with you. And with how drunk you are that's how long you'll be able to last."
Bobby shook his head and eyed the drink in his hand. He took a few sips and watched as Fin took his beer and sipped at it as he watched Lola over his shoulder. Curious as to what she was doing behind his back, he turned and watched as she started to dance with another man.
"I think she's tryin' to make you jealous."
Bobby watched the display with indifference. It wouldn't matter to him if she took the man to the floor and started going at it right then and there, he felt nothing for his once girlfriend. "And here I told her she was too good…Why'd women do that?"
Fin leaned against the pool table next to him and crossed his arms. "Do I look like one?"
Bobby took a moment to look Fin over and smirked as he said, "You keeping that pony-tail?"
"Fuck you."
Bobby couldn't help but laugh at himself, and Fin. Hell, he felt like laughing at everyone and thing. "We are jealous," he said as answering his own question. "I got jealous once. Been dating a girl for couple months, but she got sick of me and broke it off. Anyway, I saw her, I don't know, seven months later with some other guy. They were…arguing and he grabbed her…He didn't hurt her, just, you know, grabbed her to keep her from walking away and I…um, I just…snapped, hit the guy. Even though we hadn't been dating, I still felt the need to, uh, to protect her."
"She get mad at you for beating the guy up?"
Bobby shook his head. "At the time, she seemed glad. I think she had enough of him 'cause she let me walk her home. Two months later she remembered why she broke up with me in the first place. We're still friends."
Fin was laughing. "Took her two months to remember?"
Bobby smirked. "What can I say, I'm irresistible at first. It takes 'em two months to see past the charm."
"Or get sick of it if it's all you're giving them."
Bobby nodded a little as he watched as Lola started making-out with the guy; he dropped his eyes to be staring at his shoes instead of at his once girlfriend.
Fin suddenly glared at him. "We gonna play or what?"
"I've been ready. You're the one trying to get around losing to me by talking about…girls and feelings." Bobby barely had enough time to dodge the cue chalk that was thrown his direction. "Come on, Fin, you know once you start me up…I'll never stop!" He started singing the first song he had chosen to play. As Start Me Up by the 'The Rolling Stones' played he kept singing and yelling it across the bar at a detective he knew from Brooklyn who was yelling it back at him. Soon, half the bar was singing along with them.
Fin couldn't stop laughing the entire time. Shaking his head he told him, "You're one crazy white boy. I bet you jumped off bridges when you were a kid just for hell of it."
"I didn't jump off bridges…but I did put a cigarette out in my hand once. Hurt like hell so I laughed it off." Bobby eyed Fin seriously before smiling. "I lied, I jumped off Canarsie Pier a few times, but technically that's not a bridge."
It only took twenty minutes to play the last game. Bobby had lost because he was too busy singing and dancing along to the songs he had selected to play the game properly. Plus the alcohol had caused him to see four eight balls on the table and he couldn't tell which one was real.
Fin had returned from the restroom and nudged him on the shoulder as he sat down next to him at the bar. He was still laughing at him as he ordered another beer. "I gotta admit, Bobby, I've never seen anyone dance so good to Thank You by 'Sly & the Family Stone' before. Shit-faced drunk and all, you still dance better than anybody I know."
Bobby chuckled as he itched to borrow a smoke off the traffic cop next to him on his left. "I should play that one again," he mumbled as he glided the glass back-and-forth from one hand to the other. He was pass drunken oblivion and close to passing out. It was now a matter of time. "I like…dancing. Every man should-should, uh, should know how to dance with his woman…or man, whatever your preference."
Fin eyed him and then looked down at the drink he had yet take a sip of. "I think you've reached your limit."
"You think I'll get that transfer?" He was now studying Fin as he turned on the stool. Leaning his left side against the bar, Bobby waited for Fin's answer.
Fin shrugged a little as he took a sip of the beer. "Don't know."
Bobby nodded a little. His movements were heavy and overly done because he couldn't judge what was fast or what was slow. He hated being drunk, but he had given up caring hours ago. "No, I mean it. Am I…good enough to get it? Major Case is…it's…the best of the best."
Fin looked slightly uncomfortable as he fiddled with the bottle in his hands. "Yeah, you're good enough. You're the smartest detective I know."
"But…" he prompted for Fin to continue.
"But nothin'," Fin told him as he took a long drink.
"Bullshit. If there isn't anything else you won't be peeling that label off the bottle and you'll be lookin' me in the eye."
Fin looked over at him and smiled a little. "Perceptive son-of-a-bitch, even when you're seeing double. I can be perceptive too, and I know that this isn't about what I think, but what you think. You don't think you'll get in, why?"
Bobby turned away from Fin and stared down at the drink that was clutched in his hands. He finally brought the glass up and took a sip of the amber liquor. If he hadn't been drinking he would have never breached the subject and he never would have felt like explaining, but he was drinking. "I'm not good, with…partners…the Brass…all the, uh…political shit that-that comes from the, uh…comes from and with being the Chief of D's go-to guy. That's what you are when you're with Major Case. Everyone in the department sees you as-as the Chief of Detective's Detective."
"And you don't want to be that?"
"I can't be that. I mean, the reason I want to go to Major Case has nothin' to do wi-with…with…advancement, politically. It has nothin' to do with that title, or…uh, that status of being the Chief's detective. The Chief doesn't even like me…personally, he doesn't like me," he quickly added. "He likes my record, my numbers, but…I'm not…" he trailed off and shook his head. "Am I making sense?"
Glancing over, he saw that Fin was watching him closely but he wasn't saying anything. Fin had learned to just let him talk and eventually he would work it out on his own. He just needed to say it out loud and hear what was making his head hurt so damn bad.
Bobby took his eyes off his soon-to-be ex-partner and stared down into the depths of his glass like it had all the answers waiting for him at the bottom of it. "I-I, uh…I can't go back to Narcotics. It'll kill me." He took another long drink of the alcohol before saying, "If my request is turned down I'm…I'm gonna quit."
Fin groaned and sighed loudly next to him in frustration. "You can't quit. If you quit, you will go crazy. You need to be a cop like a fish needs water."
"I know," he said softly, and sadly. He was dependent on his job because that was who he was. He was a cop, nothing else mattered. Bobby rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heated friction he was creating and closed his eyes. His whole body felt like it was on the 'Tilt-A-Whirl' at Coney Island as his balance was thrown off and his stomach did a back-flip. Opening his eyes, he eyed the rest of the alcohol in the glass, debating if he should down it and finish it off. "You know what I decided?" he suddenly said out of nowhere.
"What?" Fin asked before he took a long pull off the bottle.
"I decided that I'll never use physical violence again, as a means for anything." Bobby shook his head back-and-forth. "If working the Job taught me anything, it's that violence gets you nothing except…more violence. It accomplishes nothing," he said with as much control as he could manage. His words were trying to betray him and slur into one long unpronounceable mass of annoying noise.
Fin huffed out a laugh. "That's a shame, man, seeing how you have that…that something that makes people fear you more than God. And what makes it really scary is that, sometimes, we don't even know what it is?"
Bobby eyed his friend in confusion as he asked, "What're you talkin' 'bout?" He must have been really drunk if he couldn't figure that out on his own.
"That…lingering intensity you have goin' on. Something's hidden in you and it's always just under the surface, ready to explode or somethin'. It shifts sometimes from a depressive coldness to a murderous rage. It's what makes the people around you scared of you, you know? It pours off you like heat off of black pavement. And it makes you an asshole to work with and a freak to be friends with. I mean, despite your amazing record, you're not very popular in the department."
Bobby glared hard at Fin who held up his hands.
"I'm just sayin'. You weird people out because you let no one in; no one knows who you are. That kind of not knowing makes people jump to conclusions and makes them uncomfortable, especially when they're your partner or working around you. It makes them not know what to expect or sometimes trust you. I trust you, but I can't tell you why, just that I do. And now, I'm here, listenin' to you talk about quitting the force if you don't get a transfer out and never using violence again…I mean I get it, but then again I don't because I don't know you. I don't know why you're willing to leave just 'cause you have to stay in Narcotics. So, are you goin' to help me out, Bobby, or are you not goin' to let me in as usual?"
"I told you. Haven't you been listening?" Bobby was so close to losing his temper that his voice was trembling with hostility. "I can't go back to being a Narc because that…world, it'll take me over and…eat me alive. You can only take that shit for so long before you become…'fore you become…the enemy. Jake turned, he fuckin' turned and shot me, nearly killed me over that…shit!" He slammed his hand on the bar causing the traffic cop to stare wide at him. "I can't become that," he emphasized as he pointed a finger from his aching hand at Fin. "I can't let myself slip into the easy emptiness of apathy and sell my fucking soul to that world. The apathy will take over until…'til…" he couldn't say the rest that was burning in the back of his throat. "I just can't, that's all."
Fin was quiet as he stared over at him with a look that Bobby had never seen on his friend's face. Finally, he leaned down close to him and asked, "That is your last drink, right?"
Bobby blinked back and looked down at the rest of the alcohol in the glass before staring back at Fin. "Fuck you." He pushed himself off the stool and headed for the back of the bar, to the exit.
"Bobby! Hey, Goren, wait up!"
Bobby didn't turn around or try to slow down as he pushed the door open and headed across the parking lot. He had taken the subway so he had no car to leave in, which was a good thing. He couldn't really see straight, or walk straight without things like the ground tilting and swirling around him. Why wouldn't the ground just open up and swallow him already. "No, Fin, I confided in you and you fucking…pissed me off. But, it's 'kay, I'm used to it. Used to people turning on me, not listening, not…caring."
Fin tried to slow him down by getting in front of him and holding out his hands which hit Bobby square in the chest. "Hey, cool it. I was just tryin' to lighten the misery that settled in the room. You went all…emotional on me; it was freaking me out. I never heard you so…serious before."
"It's nice to know I've never been taken seriously."
"Damn it, Bobby, that's not what I said and you know it."
Bobby pushed Fin's hands off him as he started toward the street corner. "I'm getting a cab or bus…Hell, I'll just walk so you can stop acting like a concerned friend and leave me alone. Okay?"
Fin stood shocked still and stunned, dropping his arms to his sides. He stared at him with angry disbelief as he shook his head. "You know what, fuck you, Goren. If you want to push people away, I can't stop you. Jesus, you're a self-loathing asshole, you know that. After all this time, all we've been through, you just dismissed me like that. Like my friendship doesn't matter to you. That I don't care?"
Bobby stared hard at the ground that was blurring in front of him as the shame and anger in him spread, twisting his stomach and tightening his throat. He was being an asshole. "I'm not…self-loathing."
"Yes you are. I've never seen someone hate themselves so much to where they push everyone away that gave a damn about them except you. Everyone who cares or is slightly concerned about you, you shove them aside and go off to your own little fucking world so you don't have to deal with anything. No wonder you have a hard time keeping friends and partners, you're exhausting to be around." Fin shook his head and went to walk around him, back to the bar.
"Fin…" he trailed off at the emotion he heard in his cracking voice. Clearing his throat, Bobby continued, "…think you can give me a ride home?" He yelled at himself to look up at Fin, and when he did, he saw sympathy and concern in the tough cop that had somehow in the last year become a friend to him.
Fin grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him around, steering him toward the truck. "Sure, man, just don't get sick or anything. I'll hate to kick your dumb-ass out on the curb."
They were heading across the Manhattan Bridge, heading into Brooklyn, when Fin asked him, "How're you holding up, partner? How're you feeling?"
Bobby stared out at the blurred passing scenery as he simply answered, "Old."
His fingers fumbled with his keys for the second time, dropping them to the floor. Bobby groaned in annoyance at himself and his drunkenness as he bent down and picked them up. Straightening, he gripped the keys hard as he thumbed over them until he found the right one. He leaned against his door and went to unlock it when it opened. He stumbled over his feet, falling through the door and into the wall.
"Holy shit, Bobby, are you okay?"
Bobby rubbed at his head from where it impacted the wall as he heard Lewis's voice. "What're you still doin' here?"
Lewis wrapped his arm around his shoulders and helped to guide him across the living room floor. "I haven't been able to talk to you for months and you ask what I'm still doing here?"
"No, mean…'m back now, you don't have to stay." Bobby blinked back at the bright lights in the apartment as he was lowered into his recliner. "Too bright, man. Turning it off."
"What off?"
"Everything." He relaxed against the leather recliner and moaned in pleasure. No matter how hard he tried, Bobby couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time. Lewis was gone and he was confused at why he couldn't see his friend anymore. He was just here? Noises were coming from his left; tilting his head, he peered into the kitchen. Lewis was in there, moving around. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Making you some coffee."
Bobby shook his head wildly. "Don't need coffee. Bring me….um…" he started laughing because he had no idea what kind of alcohol he had in his own home. Lewis drank beer, there had to be beer. "Bring me a beer, Louie."
"Do you remember what happened the last time you mixed Scotch with beer? And don't you dare call me 'Louie' again unless you want me to beat the crap out of you."
Bobby was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. He was able to regain some control as he tried hard but he couldn't remember what Lewis was talking about. "No," he told him weakly.
Lewis brought him a coffee cup that was filled nearly to the brim. "I do, you were sick for hours and woke up in your bathtub pissed as hell. I remember very vividly what you were like. I mean, you get…grouchy when you're recovering from a hangover anyway, but add that to the aches and pains of sleeping in that hard small tub all night…No way, not again."
"This time, I'll pass out on the floor," Bobby said as he smiled up at his friend that he hadn't really seen in nearly a year. He eyed Lewis as closely as he could through half-closed eyelids as he took the cup. Taking a sip, he was surprised at how good the coffee tasted. "Mmmm, good, thanks."
Lewis just smiled at him as he sat on the couch. "…Bobby?"
Bobby blinked back and turned his head slightly. "Hm, what?"
"I was asking you if it was worth it."
He stretched out in the recliner as he lazily scratched at his chest through his t-shirt. "Was what worth it?"
"Whatever it was that took you away for a year, was it worth it?"
Bobby closed his eyes as he let his fuzzy and confused mind formulate an answer. "I got the job done, so, uh…yeah." He wanted to tell Lewis that 'yes' it was worth it because he got to be with Alex, that he fallen in love for the first time in his life. "Lewis?"
"Bobby?"
"Have, uh…have you ever been in love?"
"Yeah."
"What's it like?" he asked as he opened his eyes to be glaring at the ceiling. The room was moving, doing all kinds of things to make his stomach twist and turn. Bobby scooted down and slid his left leg to the floor. That helped to steady the room and keep him from rolling out of the chair he was practically laying down on.
"What's going on? You meet someone while you were away?"
"I don't trust many people, Lewis. I've got friends…well, you, and…associates, but there're only three people that I trust enough to talk to about…this kind of stuff." Bobby continued to stare up at the ceiling as he took a slow sip of the coffee. "I-I, uh, I don't know what to do with love or…how to feel about it because…um…my parents, they, uh…they never once showed me how."
"How to what?"
"How to-to, uh, to love someone, 'specially a woman."
"Bobby, we've been friends for many years and one of the reasons is that I play deaf most of the time and claim that 'ignorance is bliss' bullshit when it comes to the personal life of Bobby Goren. I know some things about…about your family, not a lot, but I know that it's been hard for you--"
"My father took off when I was eleven. They divorced, but…before then…it wasn't…ideal. I used to be confused when he was gone all the time, I didn't know what I, uh…what I smelt on him when he would finally show back up, but…I-I found out later. It was women, sex…" he swallowed hard as he thought about that smell that his father reeked of. He hated that smell when he was a kid, now, as a man, he loved that smell. "He was an adulterer and I could actually smell them on him when he came home at night. He never even bothered to shower or change clothes. I was just a kid, y'know, a boy who wanted his father. I wanted to be like him, but he never wanted me around…Guess I was too much of a problem."
"That sucks to have a cheater for a dad…but, your mom did the best thing divorcing him."
Bobby stilled and felt the tears burn at his eyes before his anger took over; he closed his eyes and felt the tears ease away before he answered, "She didn't do it 'cause of that. It was after he abandoned us that she divorced him. He left because he couldn't handle it…My mom's schizophrenic, and he couldn't handle her like that."
Lewis was quiet for a moment before he said, "You never told me."
"Haven't told a lot of people," he mumbled through his numb lips. Bobby continued even though he wasn't sure why. The alcohol had done something to his brain and tongue and it felt so good, like a weight was leaving him. It was a troubling yet comforting feeling. "Sh-she, uh, she's something else," he was starting to slur his words real bad as he was drifting and fighting to stay coherent. "But she's my moms and I love her. I know she loves me it's just hard for her to show it. I barely remember a time when it was okay to touch her, t-to-to, uh, to hug her…She started, um…When I was a kid, she-she started to not like it, people touching her. Only on her good days, when she was feeling…alert, then it was okay…but, with me, it was always strained…forced."
"She wasn't the same way with Frank?"
"No…she likes Frank. The illness, it causes apathy, so…she doesn't like a lot of people." Bobby took a sip of the caramel colored liquid in the cup as his mind drifted away from that room to a distant yet still painful memory. "She would hit me sometimes. I don't mean a light smack across the back of my head, which happened a lot…I mean she would hit me. The first time she did it I was so stunned I couldn't move. She started yelling at me, blaming me for causing her to do it…then she stopped and…collapsed." He shook his head at the image of his mother sitting on the kitchen floor, crying and talking to herself. "She started crying right there on the kitchen floor. I went to her, to try and comfort her and apologize for whatever it was that set her off, but…as soon as I touched her, she pushed me away."
"Bobby," Lewis said his name softly, cautiously. "You don't--"
"Anyway," Bobby continued like he hadn't heard it, "I think…uh, I think that's why with woman, I always seem to-to, uh, to keep a distance. I get…scared, and I don't…I don't initiate anything until they do. I keep my, uh, my desires and feelings, thoughts inside and I don't let myself fall…in love. I can't, couldn't, afford to. Then she came along." At the thought of Alex and how she made him feel his literally shivered. "I…I don't know what the hell happened. I touched her first, begged her to touch me back. I was the first to tell her that I loved her. It was so…stupid, and pathetic, but I convinced myself that…that maybe…it would be okay."
"How is that pathetic? You were in love, that's a good thing."
"No, it's not," his voice broke as he looked over at his friend. Bobby was feeling that anger and frustration again at no one realizing that none of this was a good thing. "Not for me. It's scaring me and I get confused and everything's so right yet so wrong. And now, now…without her...without her I'm lost. And it's pathetic because I'd rather be alone than to not have her…It's pathetic, and sad, and…deserving. Isn't it? For a man like me, that's…the way it is?"
Lewis stepped over to him and bent down close to him. Bobby was confused and slightly unaware of what his friend was doing until he felt arms wrapping around the top of his shoulders.
Bobby tensed and went to move back but Lewis kept his arms tight around him. "Uh, Lewis, what're you doing?"
"I'm giving you a man-hug," Lewis mumbled into his shoulder.
"Well, it feels more like a regular hug to me."
"Nope, I'm a man, and I'm hugging you…Man-hug."
Bobby gripped Lewis on the shoulders and shoved him away. "It was lasting too long…weird-ing me out."
"Now you know how I feel right now. I knew you were a sensitive guy but get a hold of yourself. Go out there and get over this girl like any normal man," Lewis told him as he glared down at him.
Bobby blinked back and stared up at Lewis in confusion.
Lewis sighed heavily before telling him, "You're halfway there with getting wasted, now all you need to do is sleep with some other chick."
Bobby closed his eyes and rubbed at his head. "Go away. Lewis, just…get the fuck out. You're not helping."
"Come on, there are other women out there who would do anything to screw your brains out right now."
"Out!" Bobby pointed to the door. "Lewis, get the fuck gone!"
"Get the fuck gone? Bobby, you're the one who's gone."
He groaned and tried to get up out of the recliner but all he managed to do was spill coffee on the floor before slumping back down onto the chair. The room was spinning, his body felt like it was made of stone, and the pounding in his head sounded muffled like it was dunked under water. "What?" he asked because now he couldn't remember if Lewis had said anything or not.
"You're drunk, Bobby," Lewis was telling him as he took the cup out of his hand and placed it on the coffee table. "It's time for you to go to bed."
"Not tired," he pouted a little as he turned away from Lewis and tried again to get up. This time he managed to put the leg rest on the recliner down before he stood.
Bobby stumbled as soon as his feet hit the wooden floor, sending him nearly tumbling into the bookshelf. He caught himself against the shelf and dragged a hand over his numbing face. He couldn't feel a thing; maybe he liked being drunk after all. "Need…um," he strolled slowly over to the counter in the kitchen and found his cell phone. He had left it there because he didn't need it. No one would be calling him except for his mother. And she called twice. It was Sunday, but he didn't visit her. Not today, he couldn't.
He was being a bad son, letting his mother down by not visiting her when he should have. If Bobby thought hard about it, he could hear her disapproving voice in his head putting him down, degrading him and making him feel like shit. Rubbing a hand along his forehead, he flipped the cell open.
"Whoa, you're not calling anyone. You're way too wasted to talk to anyone about anything."
Lewis tried to take the phone away from him, but Bobby pushed him away and lifted the phone way above his head like a child. "I'll call whoever the fuck I want to call." Now he was just being a stubborn jerk and he knew it.
He found the number as he heard Lewis say next to him, "You're going to regret this in the morning."
"I'm gonna regret a lot of things in the morning." He could always visit his mother tomorrow, with a hangover…Yeah that was real responsible. "Need a, uh, a cigarette, got any?"
Lewis huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "You know I quit. I thought you did too."
Bobby nodded as he put the phone to his ear. "Just thought I'd ask, been craving one." The phone only rang once before it was cut off by an robotic female voice telling him the number he was calling no longer existed. He frowned and tried again. When he got the same message, he tried again, and again, and again until Lewis took the phone out of his hand and put it to his ear.
"The number doesn't exist anymore. Who were you trying to call?"
Bobby stared at the tile floor and stepped around in a small circle as he rubbed a hand over his neck. He had waited too long. Fuck! Before he had time to register what he was going, his fist impacted the wall, sending a painful vibration up to his shoulder. "Son-of-a-bitch," he yelled at himself.
Alex's cell wasn't working and that could only mean one thing. She was no longer undercover. He had waited too long; he should have called her earlier. He leaned into the wall he had hit and rested his head against it. It didn't matter anyway, she deserved someone better than him. Better than a man who feared his own heart more than anything. Maybe it was a good thing he couldn't call her anymore.
Turning, he rested his back against the wall and he slid down to the floor as he felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. He pulled his knees up and buried his head in his hands. God he hoped she would forgive him for not calling her, for lying to her, and for not trusting her. Even though he didn't feel like he deserved her forgiveness, he prayed she would.
TBC…