Eames was in the kitchen, washing her dinner dishes, when she heard a knock at the door. Drying her hands on a towel, she looked toward the couch as she walked to the door. Goren was still sleeping. He'd been exhausted by his excursion from the hospital and his subsequent activity after she'd found him, combined with the alcohol she'd given him to deal with his pain, and he'd been sleeping soundly all day, shifting in his sleep from time to time but not waking. Weakened by his injury, he was taking a long while to recover even a little of his strength. Constantly fighting pain exacerbated his weakened condition.
His state of mind worried her, too. He showed signs of paranoia, but she couldn't blame him for that. Frances Sutter would make her paranoid, too, if she kept showing up unannounced, abusive and unreasonable. She couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for Bobby and Frank when they were little. Sutter's children at least had a filter in their father, a protector who wouldn't allow their mother's disease to negatively impact their lives. Frank and Bobby had no one. They'd had to bear the full brunt of her schizophrenia, her physical, psychological and emotional abuse. What a nightmare it must have been!
Surely the two boys had been better off with each other than they had been with her. Yet, Bobby felt such rage toward his mother for her abandonment. Was a bad mother truly better than no mother at all? Were abuse and neglect so much better than brotherly love? In a flash of sudden insight, Eames got it. She understood. Bobby wasn't angry at his mother for his own sake. He'd had it good, being raised by Frank instead of her. The anger he directed toward his mother was on Frank's behalf. Forced to grow into adult responsibilities overnight, Frank had given up most of his adolescence for his brother, a sacrifice he didn't seem to regret. Rather than resent Bobby for taking away part of his life, he seemed glad to have done it, which was why the brothers remained so close.
Unsure how he would react to a person at the door in his current mental state, she was glad the knock had not woken him. He remained sleeping because he truly did feel safe with her. She hurried across the room and opened the door.
Logan grinned at her and held up a prescription bottle that was half-filled with small white pills. "Compliments of Frank," he said as he handed her the pill bottle. "And for the record, I am not a fan of this plan."
Eames took the pill bottle and looked at the pills as she backed up to let him in the door. "Neither am I, but if we take him to see a doctor, he'll just want to put him back in the hospital and Bobby won't agree to that. That doesn't leave us many options."
Carrying a thick manila folder into the living room, Logan said, "I guess you're right, and I can't say I blame him."
"Neither do I, but he can't hide forever."
Logan set the file on the coffee table. "That won't stop him from trying, at least for awhile."
She opened the pill bottle and dumped a couple into her hand, looking at them. "Did Frank tell you what these are?"
"Nope, but he said to use them with caution. They're potent."
"Did he at least tell you how much he should take?"
"One tablet every four hours. He said they're fast acting but the effect doesn't last very long. You can give it every three hours if he needs it, but be careful."
She snorted. "I'm taking dosing directions for illegally obtained narcotics from a junkie who says 'be careful.'"
"Who knows drugs better?" Logan said with a short laugh.
"The things I do for him," she said with a shake of her head.
"All in the name of love," Logan teased.
Goren stirred at the sound of their voices. "Alex?" he murmured.
"I'm right here," she said, approaching the couch. "How do you feel?"
"Not so good," he answered, holding his side, which was throbbing to the beat of his heart. It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever experienced, but without something to take off the edge, he couldn't function.
"I have something effective to give you for the pain now," she said. "So you won't have to spend the next two weeks wasted to cope with the pain. Let me get you some water."
Goren looked at Logan from beneath half-closed lids, his eyes glazed with pain. Logan shook his head. "You should be in a hospital."
"Eames told you I was here?"
"No. She just told me she found you."
"So how did you know I was here?"
Logan sat on the coffee table and leaned forward. "I know you better than you think. She told me that you were someplace you felt safe. You weren't at your place, which was where Frank and I looked. So I asked myself, Where else would he feel safe? And here I am."
"Where's Frank?"
"I dropped him off before I came here. I didn't know how Alex would feel about me bringing him into her house. She's not his biggest fan."
Goren understood that and he nodded. He started to sit up, but he didn't get far, groaning deeply as he fell back onto the couch. A thin sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead. "Hey, hey," Logan said. "Take it easy. Here, let me give you a hand."
He moved to the couch, where he helped Goren to sit up, bearing most of his friend's weight. Goren's breathing was shallow and he braced his arm tightly against his side. He groaned again, feeling sick to his stomach. Eames came back into the room and handed him a glass of water and one of the little pills. She trusted that Frank wouldn't do anything to cause his brother harm. Goren examined the pill before he took it. "Do you know what it is?" Eames asked.
He nodded. "I know."
Logan and Eames looked at him expectantly as he leaned his head back and tried not to vomit. "Well?" Logan said. "You gonna share with the class? What the hell is it?"
Goren didn't move anything but his mouth. "It's, uh, it's morphine. It'll get me through."
Eames sat beside Goren and lightly stroked his forehead, soothing him. He leaned against her, and as he relaxed, the pain eased a little and so did the nausea.
"It's been an exciting day," Logan said, attempting to distract hm. "To fill you in, the shit really hit the fan late this morning. Ross stopped by to talk about the case with the two of you and you weren't there. They told him you left against medical advice and he about hit the roof. Neither of you answered your phones, so I was next on his hit list for an ass-chewing. Somehow, it just doesn't seem right that you screw up and I get in trouble."
Eames said, "My phone is in the other room charging. I'll call Ross later."
"Just remember, the longer you wait, the more upset he'll be when you finally call. But I haven't gotten to the best part yet. Apparently, after Ross left, Mrs. Sutter showed up looking for you—without the colonel. She pitched a holy hell fit and accused everyone from your doctor to the mayor of plotting to keep you from her."
Goren opened his eyes and looked at Logan, confused. "She what? Why would she do that?"
"She wasn't happy that she couldn't find you. They told her you'd left the hospital and she wouldn't believe them. She started looking in other rooms, claiming they had taken her son away from her again. They had to restrain her and sedate her. When they called the colonel, he and her doctor convinced them to let them take her home. I guess the colonel has a lot of experience dealing with her after thirty years. He called me when he couldn't reach one of you. He wants to see you when you feel up to it."
Goren was quiet. Eames asked, "Is he upset with Bobby?"
Logan shook his head. "No, not at all. None of this is Bobby's fault, although Sutter wishes he'd waited until he was stronger to tell her who he is. He thinks Bobby bolted because of Mrs. Sutter."
"So that news won't be a surprise to him," Eames said as she turned to Goren. "You okay?"
He shook his head slowly because he wasn't. "I-I don't get it."
"Her world revolves around her, Bobby," Logan said. "Sutter tried to explain it to me. He said that everything is about her, for her and because of her. There are no independent variables. Life with her has its challenges, but boredom was never one of them."
"So...she thinks the hospital did something with me, just to prevent her from seeing me?"
"Apparently, and she wasn't happy about it at all."
"But...I...I still don't understand. Why...Why does she want to see me if I was such a horrible kid she was forced to leave in search of a better life?"
"Did you think that maybe it wasn't you?" Logan said. "Maybe it was your old man's fault. After he left, she just wasn't equipped to go at life alone, not with two kids."
"Then why would she blame me?"
"Because he's not around to blame," Eames said gently. "And you are."
"You're the closest available target. It certainly wasn't her fault, so she has to blame someone."
"Her mind is all twisted up from her disease," Eames added, relieved that he wasn't able to penetrate a mind that sick. His insight had blinders right now and he wasn't able to apply it to his mother. "Maybe it's a good thing that you can't get into it. Maybe you shouldn't try."
"She's not a perp," he said. "I don't need to get into her mind. But I do want to understand."
Eames pressed her lips against his temple. "You always have to understand," she softly admonished.
His brow furrowed. "I'm a detective. That's what I do."
"But some things, some minds, are best left alone," she argued.
"She's irrational," Logan interrupted, before the argument got going. "You're not. Let it go at that."
Goren didn't like being ganged up on, and he was growing agitated. He rubbed his side, which reminded Eames that now she was somehow responsible for his care. She leaned in and softly kissed him. "I should probably change your dressing. They were doing that every day in the hospital. I don't want you getting an infection."
She took the folder Logan had brought and placed it in Goren's hands, then went to find everything she would need to change his dressing. She stopped in the bedroom to pick up her phone, which showed seven missed calls, one from her father, two from Sutter and four from Ross. None had left her a voicemail.
Not wanting to talk to Sutter in front of her partner, she took the time to call him. He sounded stressed when he answered the phone. "Hello, Colonel Sutter. This is Detective Eames."
"Detective, I'm glad to hear from you. I've been trying to contact you. What happened to your partner? Is he all right?"
"He's okay. He...decided to leave the hospital."
"His mother was a driving force behind that decision, wasn't she?"
Eames sighed. "He was kind of overwhelmed and he felt that he needed to get away. He was feeling vulnerable at the hospital and everything started to close in on him. He's a very sensitive man and he didn't handle her reaction to his revelation very well, even though he tried to prepare himself. Attempting to put the blame for her actions on him is not fair. He was just a kid. If she couldn't cope with being a mother, that wasn't his fault."
"I agree with you, and—between you and me—it was probably a wise decision for him to leave."
"Colonel, he wasn't ready to be released from the hospital. He's recovering from a very serious injury."
"I realize that, but being under constant stress, worrying that his mother might return to visit, probably would have done him more harm than good. This morning she managed to leave the house without my daughter realizing she was gone. When she got to the hospital and found him missing, she was convinced that there is a conspiracy now to keep him from her. She won't listen to anyone. She just wants to see him."
"He doesn't understand that. Yesterday she seemed to resent his existence and today she expects him to embrace her with forgiveness and accept her back into his life? It doesn't work that way."
"She was very upset that you and Detective Logan were judging her. She felt that was unfair."
"You mean she was pissed that we were siding with her son instead of validating what she did?"
He sighed heavily. "You don't understand her."
"I don't think I want to. Look, colonel, I know that she's your wife and you love and want to protect her. But her son is my..." She hesitated for a moment, not certain how she should classify their relationship. She decided to be honest with him. "He's my partner, and he's my lover, and I will protect him. What she did was wrong and she should be accountable for that, whatever her excuse for doing it."
"In her own way, she loved Frank and Bobby. Her decision to leave was too painful for her to bear, which is why her mind invented that fire. To her it was real and she mourned her sons with real grief."
"And now that she knows it wasn't real, she blames Bobby for her decision to leave?"
Sutter made a noise of frustration. He didn't know what to say to help her understand him. "Please don't think that I condone what she did, but I am trying to understand because I love her. She has been a good mother to my son and daughter, but she never had to do it alone. She had me to help her most of the time, and she always had a nanny for the kids. It made a difference. When she felt overwhelmed, the nanny always knew what to do. Had she had help in raising Frank and Bobby, everything would have been different, but she didn't know that was what she needed. Some part of her mind drove her to seek a new life, to start over and, perhaps, do it right. That part of her mind also got rid of the one thing that held her back from seeking that new life, her sons. The fire was very real to her when I met her. I believed it was real all these years, until I learned who Robert was. I can't tell you how much I wish she'd brought those boys with her into my life."
"Do you think she honestly believed they were dead all these years and now she suddenly remembers that the fire wasn't real?"
"I understand that your job has trained you to be suspicious of everything, but yes, I do believe she remained convinced that her sons died in a fire until Robert revealed his identity to her. That jarred her mind back into the reality of what she'd done. Blaming him was her way of protecting herself."
"But what about him? She was the one who was wrong! That's not fair to him. He already felt some level of guilt, thinking he could have been the reason she left. For her to straight out tell him that...that was damaging. It wasn't his fault."
"I know that. She remembers him as a difficult boy. She said he was beginning to get into alcohol and drugs, even at that young age, and she didn't know how to handle him. She came home from work one day to find him on the couch, half-drunk and half-dressed with a girl in the same state, making out and smoking pot in her living room. When she started yelling, Bobby laughed. She chased the girl out and smacked him around, but he still laughed. It never occurred to her that the boy wasn't laughing at her, that he was stoned and just laughing. That was how Bobby coped. She said she couldn't handle him."
"Frank figured it out."
"Maybe Frank was able to not judge his brother. Their mother looked at them and saw her own failure reflected back at her, at least through her younger boy."
"She had no idea that Frank was doing the same things? That he was the one who was drawing Bobby into that world, providing the drugs and alcohol, setting the example?"
"I guess not. Perhaps Frank was better at hiding it."
"Maybe he was. I have to go now, colonel."
"Would you ask him to please consider meeting with her again?"
"No, I won't. After what the last two encounters did to him, I will not ask him to go through that again."
Sutter was quiet for a moment. "I understand. Perhaps he will be better prepared after he recovers."
"That's up to him. I won't ask him to put himself through that again, because if I ask, he will do it. I won't be part of that. The decision has to be his, and his alone. I'll be in touch, colonel."
She ended the call, gathered her supplies and went back to the living room.
Goren and Logan were seated on the couch, studying the papers Sutter had given Logan. She set the dressing supplies on the coffee table and stepped around to the back of the couch. She placed her hands on Goren's shoulders and leaned in to look at the pages he held. "Find anything?" she asked, speaking softly into his ear.
He nearly dropped the papers. She continued to breathe softly right next to his ear. He leaned back and looked up at her as she pulled away from him. She played with his hair. "Let me change that dressing."
"Keep breathing in my ear like that and you can do anything you want to me."
"Promises, promises," she said with a smile. "Lay down."
He pulled off his shirt and stretched out on the couch as Logan got up and went into the kitchen to get a drink. Eames knelt beside the couch and gently peeled off the dressing. Using an antiseptic wash, she cleaned the surgical site. He groaned softly as she stroked his skin. "It looks good," she said.
"It feels good when you do that."
She washed it a little more, then waited for it to dry. While she waited, he slipped his hand under her shirt. She shifted away from his fingers, laughing. "Behave yourself," she hissed.
After she finished bandaging his wound, she leaned in to kiss him. "There. How are you feeling?"
"Better," he said as he sat up.
He was moving with greater ease and his breathing was easy again. His pain was well under control. "You look better," she said, relieved.
"I'm glad I left. I'm comfortable here and I can relax without being sedated. I'm not constantly on edge, waiting for the door to open."
She sat beside him and settled against him as he put his arm around her. He leaned forward to look at her face. She smiled and he kissed her deeply, sliding his hand back under her shirt. Instead of tickling her, he stroked her side as he sought her breast. She arched into his hand and made a soft noise as he pushed her over onto the couch. Neither of them remembered they were not alone in the house until Logan returned from the kitchen. He watched them for a minute, waiting for either of them to notice him. When they didn't, he cleared his throat.
"Okay, kids, save it for the bedroom," he teased. "We have a case to work here."
Goren smiled against her mouth but let her wriggle out from under him. She wasn't entirely comfortable with Logan's teasing or with his willingness to watch them—and Goren's apparent willingness to let him. He sat up, following Eames with his eyes.
She was glad the medicine Frank sent was effective and he was feeling better. She smiled at him. "Are you ready to eat?" she asked, realizing he hadn't eaten at all. "You need to eat so you can heal."
He extended his legs along the side of the coffee table, wincing a little at the pull on his side when he stretched.
He nodded, more to make her happy than to satisfy any real hunger drive. He knew she was right. He also knew he'd made the right decision when her expression brightened. "What do you want?" she asked.
"I'll eat whatever you make," he answered. "Surprise me."
He didn't really feel a particular craving for anything specific. She looked at Logan. "What about you, Mike?"
"If you're offering, I'll eat," he answered.
"If it's edible, Mike will eat it," Goren joked.
She laughed softly and walked to the kitchen. Goren watched her until she was out of sight, and he sighed. Logan grinned at him. "Feeling better, I see."
"What? Oh, uh, yeah. I feel pretty good right now."
"Why don't we do something productive while we wait?"
"Productive?"
"Yeah, like go through the case file. We are still working a case, you know."
Reaching out, Goren grabbed the thick folder from the coffee table and opened it. "This is just the import listings and providence documentation. Where's the rest of the file?" he asked.
"Out in the car. I'll get it."
He trotted to the door and left the house. Goren got up and went to the kitchen. Eames was setting a pot on the stove to boil. "Need something?" she asked.
"You mean other than you?"
"Yes."
"How about a beer?"
"Not while you're taking that medicine. How about coffee?"
He approached her. "I don't suppose I can make you change your mind..."
"Not about that. Sometimes, you can be reckless. I'm not going to let you drink while you're taking narcotics. Now, you can have coffee, or orange juice, or..."
She trailed off when he stepped up to her and placed his hands on her waist. She placed her hands against his chest, sliding them around his neck when he leaned in to kiss her. Pausing with his mouth barely an inch from hers, he murmured, "I love you."
He claimed her mouth before she could respond and she melted in his arms.
Logan returned from the car and set the file on the coffee table. He heard a noise from the kitchen and decided not to intrude a second time. Scrawling a note, he set it on top of a folder and left the house. His note read: Went for a walk. Call me when it's safe to come back.
Then, it started to rain.
