Two days passed with no change in Goren's condition. In the early morning hours of the third day, Eames was awakened by the sound of an alarm near his bed. Two nurses rushed in to the room as she scrambled out of the chair in which she slept. She heard them try to calm him, and one of them ran from the room to retrieve a sedative.

Eames hurried to the bed, where Goren struggled against the remaining nurse as two orderlies hurried into the room. Refusing to be shoved out of the way, she talked to her partner, softly but firmly imploring him to calm down.

Somehow, she broke through the panic in his mind and he heard her. His struggles eased as he turned his head in her direction. "Eames..." he called hoarsely.

"I'm right here, Bobby. You have to calm down."

Although he calmed considerably, his breathing was still labored. "Eames," he murmured.

She grabbed his hand and moved in as close as she could while the orderlies moved away from the bed and the other nurse returned. His hand gripped hers tightly and he fought the panic that still tried to take over as the nurse injected the medicine into his IV.

Eames spoke to him softly and gently kissed his temple. "It's okay," she said. "Just stay calm. It's okay."

His grip eased as the sedative took effect and his eyes slid closed. His breathing evened out and the cardiac monitor stopped alarming. The nurses breathed a sigh of relief in unison and the orderlies left the room.

"What was that?" Eames demanded.

One of the nurses turned to the respirator, which continued to alarm, switching it off as the other nurse explained, "He started to come around before it was time for his next dose of sedative, and he panicked and pulled out the breathing tube, which is a normal reaction. We were going to try taking him off it in the morning, anyway. The doctor is on his way in now, and he'll make the final decision about the respirator, but Robert is doing well." She reached up and adjusted the settings on the monitor above the bed. "We'll watch him closely for the next twelve to twenty-four hours."

The other nurse pushed the respirator off to the side and said, "You did a good job calming him down. He responds well to you."

Eames nodded. "We've been partners for a long time, and we're close."

She couldn't quite bring herself to admit how much she loved him to strangers, but she remained by his bed, still holding his hand. The nurses left the room.

Ten minutes later, one of them returned with the doctor, who examined Goren, listening closely to his heart and lungs and carefully palpating his abdomen. He nodded. "I think he's ready to be off the respirator. His breathing is strong, even with the amount of sedative he was given." He looked at Eames. "He's getting stronger. There doesn't seem to be any more bleeding. He's going to be fine."

Although she'd guessed that was the case, she felt deeply relieved to hear the doctor say it. "Thank you," she said.

Once the doctor and nurse were gone from the room, she leaned down and softly kissed her partner. "I love you," she whispered.

She was not able to go back to sleep.

He woke again near sunset, his mind recalling his earlier panic but not processing the reason for it. She calmed him again, they medicated him again and he drifted back to sleep, not strong enough to fight the medication.

That pattern of waking, medicating and sleeping persisted for several days. The day after they discontinued the respirator, they transferred him to the post-surgical floor, assuring Eames that he was recovering. It was just going to take time.

She called Ross once a day to keep him in the loop, glad he was allowing her to work the case with Logan and Wheeler from the hospital. There was no further activity from the Triad and no other bodies had turned up, but the investigation was stalled. Logan and Wheeler located the video of a man bringing the body to the eleventh floor from the parking garage, but his face was never visible and they had no clues to his identity. He had apparently carried the body into the garage from the street and was very careful to keep himself hidden from the cameras. The autopsy was done, but they had no identification on the man.

Logan and Frank visited once or twice a day. Eames found out that Frank was staying at his brother's apartment, and she felt no disapproval. Knowing now what she hadn't known in the past, she was rid of her anger and dislike for Frank.

Sutter called her every morning, but he didn't return for a visit. His wife was still in town and he didn't want to cause her son any further distress by providing the means for her to harass him again. He was afraid her visit had contributed to his setback and he felt guilty for that, even though Eames assured him that was not the case.

Eames woke early Friday morning and went down to the cafeteria to grab a quick breakfast. When she returned to Goren's room, she was surprised to find Frank there. He looked rough, like he hadn't slept, and she suspected he was coming off a binge. "You're here early," she said as she sat down with her plate.

"How is he?"

"The same as yesterday."

Frank looked frustrated and he sat heavily in a nearby chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"What? Yeah, I'm okay. I just...I didn't sleep last night."

She started to ask, but decided she didn't want to know. She took a bite of her omelet, washing it down with a swallow of coffee. "Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Go ahead."

"Do you have any good memories of your mother?"

"Sure. Plenty of them. I was ten when she had her first break with reality and was diagnosed with schizophrenia. That was when we really lost her. She was never the same after that. She refused to take her medication, so her symptoms just got worse and worse. When she left, she was about done raising me, so I don't have any hard feelings about that, but..." He shook his head slowly and ran his hand over his curls. "I've never forgiven her for what she did to Bobby."

"She abused you, too, didn't she?"

He shrugged. "Some, yes, but I was bigger and I could take it. He was only seven, and he was little and scared. He didn't understand. Hell, at first, neither did I. Dad was no help. He started staying away more and when he was around, his abuse got worse. He didn't want to be bothered with us, especially when he had something better to do, which was most of the time."

"He was cruel?"

"A lot of the time he was, but he was a worse kind of cruel than Mom. Mom was sick; he wasn't."

She ate some more of her breakfast, offering him a bite which he refused. "Colonel Sutter is going to tell her about you and Bobby," she said.

"Why?"

She frowned. "What do you mean, why?"

"Just what I said. What good could it possibly serve to tell her about us now? There's no way she could ever make up for the last thirty-two years. Look what seeing her did to him. I mean, Bobby can make up his own mind, but I would just as soon she'd stayed missing. I...I want to protect him, but he's all grown up now and I can't protect him any more. I couldn't protect him back then, not like I wished I could. I took a lot of beatings so they wouldn't turn on him, but I couldn't stop them all the time. Mom used to lock him in a closet to 'protect' him, and sometimes it was hours before I could get him out of there. Once he was trapped in there for a whole night. I was sick over that, but I couldn't get the key from her. It was ten in the morning before she went to sleep and I could sneak it away from her." He shook his head. "I don't see what good it can do, especially for Bobby."

She couldn't argue with him about that, but she didn't really know what harm the visit had done because she hadn't spoken to him about it yet. "I can introduce you to the colonel."

Frank shook his head. "No, thanks. If Bobby insists, then maybe, but I'm not sure I want any part of it. Bobby has a much more tender heart than I do, and a more forgiving soul. I don't think I can ever forgive her for what she did to him. I'm pretty sure he's blocked out a lot of what happened back then, but I remember enough for both of us."

He got to his feet and walked to the bed, placing his hand on his sleeping brother's forehead. "I'm glad he has you. He deserves to be loved. The deck was stacked against him from the start, and he still turned out to be a good man. I don't know how, I don't know why, but he did."

"You should be proud of what you did for him."

Frank shook his head and turned to look at her. "No, not me. I'm not proud of anything I've done or become. But him...I'm damn proud of him. He does more good in a day than I do in a year. He's a hero and he protects the innocent, and no one can take that away from him."

He gave her a sad smile and he left without saying anything more. She looked at the rest of her breakfast, but she had no appetite, so she tossed it in the trash and finished her coffee.

Saturday afternoon marked a turning point for Goren. He woke in the late afternoon and seemed more coherent than he'd been all week. He looked around the room, but didn't see his partner, which bothered him.

"Eames," he whispered, followed by a cough and a groan.

She set aside the book she was reading and got up from the chair across the room, thrilled to hear his voice. "I'm right here, Bobby."

"Eames..."

He gathered her into a hug, holding her firmly against his chest. "I...I'm...sorry," he whispered.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, not really surprised that an apology would be the first real thing he said to her.

"I worried you."

She didn't answer immediately, not wanting to leave his arms. Finally, she pulled back, staying on the edge of the bed. "Okay, I'll give you that, but it wasn't your fault. It's all been taken care of, and you're going to get better now. But we do need to talk. I'm the one who needs to apologize to you."

His brow furrowed. His mind was fuzzy and he was having trouble focusing. "Why?"

"A couple of reasons. First, I wasn't here when you needed me."

His confusion increased. "I don't understand."

"When your mother showed up."

He took a few minutes to relate her apology to an event in his mind. It finally clicked as he remembered the visit. The memory of it triggered his anxiety. Eames rested her hand on his bare chest. "Bobby, relax. If you don't settle down, they'll come in here and sedate you."

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensation of her hand on his chest. When her fingers lightly moved in a caressing circle, he made a soft noise in the back of his throat and began to relax. His thoughts started to flow randomly. When he remembered why she'd been gone when his mother arrived, he opened his eyes, struggling to force away the sleepiness that blanketed his mind.

"The case..." he murmured, not wanting to discuss his mother.

Eames shook her head and touched his lips with her fingertips. "I need to apologize for one more thing."

"You don't have to apologize to me about anything, Alex."

"Yes, I do. This is one apology I absolutely owe you. I was wrong about your brother, and now I realize how much I hurt you by judging him harshly and not giving him a fair chance."

He didn't quite know what to make of that apology, so he didn't respond. His silence made her nervous, so she kept talking. "I judged him without knowing all the facts, without realizing he didn't have all the facts about me, either."

Although discussing private matters—even with her—made him nervous, she'd piqued his curiosity, which was stronger than his reluctance. Bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming, he pushed himself higher in the bed. She started to withdraw, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. "Explain," he insisted. "I-I don't know what you mean."

She should have known he wouldn't just accept her apology and let it go. As she tried to gather her thoughts and figure out how best to explain what she meant, she absently stroked his chest and abdomen in random, abstract patterns. Every time she drew her fingers along his waist, his thoughts fragmented and he found it harder and harder to refocus.

He reached out to her and lightly touched the tip of one breast with an index finger. She gasped softly and looked into his eyes. "Oh, Bobby," she whispered softly, leaning in to kiss him.

He slid his arms around her and kissed her deeply. When she reluctantly pulled away, he groaned a soft protest, but he let her withdraw, knowing how sensitive she was about being walked in on, which he found endlessly amusing. He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, reinforcing his control with reluctance as he fought his pain and tried to refocus his thoughts. The case, his mother, his brother, his...his lover... His thoughts went off on a tangent for which he wasn't ready, and he attempted to steer them another way. "Please," he said softly. "Explain."

He seemed so much stronger, although he still battled the effects of the powerful medicine they'd been giving him. That he was able to successfully fight it showed her he was strong enough to discuss his brother, if not his mother.

She grasped his hand, entwining her fingers with his. He looked at her expectantly, curious. "Mike called Frank and he came by. I found out that he visits you quite regularly."

He shrugged. "I go down to see him, too. Just not as often."

"Why not?"

He averted his eyes from hers when he answered, "Uh, too much...temptation. Here at home, my control is...better."

"What kind of temptation?"

"Have you ever been to Atlantic City?"

"Of course, but you don't have a problem with gambling."

"No, and I don't want one. But gambling isn't the only temptation. After I got out of the Army, I visited him for a weekend." The look in his eyes grew distant. "I ended up staying four days, and it got kind of...uh, wild, out of control. I got a taste—well, more than a taste—of all Frank's addictions that weekend, and I wasn't put off by any of them. After that, I knew I had to be careful, so Frank usually makes the trip up here or we meet somewhere in between."

She wanted details, but decided that was a conversation for another time. "Logan said Frank doesn't bring out the drugs when he visits."

He became more uncomfortable and began to fidget. "He doesn't, not usually. Since I became a cop, he respects that. When I...When I worked narcotics, he helped me out from time to time when I was undercover, but other than that, he keeps his drugs well away from me most of the time."

"Doesn't he trust you?"

"He does. I don't trust me, and he doesn't want me in trouble. We've been through enough of that."

She was quiet for a minute, still gently rubbing his chest and stomach, carefully avoiding the bandage and bruising under his ribs. "So what happened the few times I know about?"

He shrugged and offered her a small smile. "We got carried away. I, uhm, I wasn't careful enough."

She returned his smile and laid a hand on his cheek. "You never told me he visits as often as he does."

"You wouldn't have approved."

"What did that matter? We were just partners, Bobby. You never needed my approval for anything."

"I know," he replied, looking away again. "But...there came a time when it did matter, what you thought. I didn't need your approval, but I wanted it. So I...avoided telling you anything that I thought you wouldn't like, and you didn't like Frank."

"I only knew of five or six times he came to town, and each time you ended up in trouble of some kind. That made me believe that Frank only cared about carrying on with his own misbehavior and not what happened to you."

He looked down at her hand, following it with his eyes as she traced a line straight down his belly. He sighed softly. "That's not true."

"I know that now. Frank loves you very much."

He nodded and she drew her hand back up, lightly touching his chin. He looked at her and reached out to touch her face. Gently, he guided her to him, pulling her against him as he kissed her. She withdrew slowly, not wanting to break the tender contact, but if it continued, she knew that her body would demand more and she had no other viable options with him laid up. He was likely to end up in the same state, and she didn't want that. He was uncomfortable enough dealing with the pain in his side—and in his psyche.

"Rest, Bobby," she said softly. "We have a lot to talk about, but it needs to wait until you're stronger. I just wanted you to know I made peace with your brother."

"I...I'm glad. I appreciate that you made the effort. Frank has always been good to me."

She nodded and gave him another kiss, holding onto his hand until he drifted back to sleep.