A/N: This chapter gave me a lot of trouble and it took awhile to get right. So apologies for the wait. I hope it was worth it.

When Logan returned with Frank, Goren was dozing in the chair and Eames was reading the paper. She set it aside when they came into the room. "Hi, guys," she greeted them.

"Hello, Detective Eames," Frank said, his tone guarded.

With a sigh, she gave in to her partner's affection for his brother and said, "You can call me Alex."

He grinned at her and she looked away, still not sure how much she liked him. Logan handed her a backpack. "What'd you do to him?"

"Nothing. You know how easily he still tires."

He pointed at her shirt. "You missed a button."

She looked down and both men laughed. Her face colored and she scowled at them, which only made them laugh more. The laughter woke Goren. "What's so funny?" he asked with a frown.

"Nothing," Eames answered. "Here. Trouble there brought your clothes."

Goren's face relaxed as his irritation faded with his sleepiness. "Thanks, Mike. Hi, Frank."

"Hey, little brother. How are you feeling?"

"Better." His eyes drifted to Eames, and he smiled. Her face flushed a deeper red as she smiled back. "Why are you blushing?" he asked, amused.

Logan chuckled. "We were teasing her," he said.

"About what?"

"About wearing you out," Logan answered.

"And missing a button when she got dressed again," Frank added.

"You did?" Goren asked.

"No, I didn't," she answered, glaring at Logan and Frank, who chuckled some more. She turned back to Goren, who was grinning now and trying hard not to laugh with the other men. "You'd better get dressed. The colonel and your mother will be here soon."

"Already?" he said as he took the backpack from her.

"It's quarter after twelve," Logan said.

"Damn," Goren muttered as he started to get up.

Logan was closest to him, and he stepped forward to give a hand when Goren lost his balance and toppled back against the chair with a grunt of pain. Frank stepped around Eames to help. Once he was on his feet, Goren walked to the bathroom, stopping to give his partner a gentle kiss. She smiled and he touched her cheek before moving past her.

"He's always had a tender heart and a gentle touch," Frank said, looking fondly after the brother he'd raised. "He's a good man."

"I know he is," she replied. "Thank you for coming, Frank. I know you didn't want to see your mother."

"I could care less about my mother. I never expected her to turn up." He ran his hand through his hair, and his expression revealed his anger. "Make no mistake. I'm not here for her or even for myself. I'm here for him. Whatever mess I may have made of my own life, I love my brother and I'd do anything for him."

Eames allowed herself to feel some affection for Frank. Maybe he wasn't the troublemaker she'd had him pegged as. "Thank you, Frank."

He looked her up and down, and a smile played at his mouth. "We've had some misunderstandings in the past, Alex, but I want to make one thing perfectly clear." He pointed toward the bathroom door. "I know what I've done for him and so does he. I have no regrets about that. None. If we had it to do all over again, I would want my mother to do the same thing because I think I did a better job raising him than she would have."

Eames glanced at Logan, who had always liked Frank. Looking back at Frank, she commented, "You were always there for him."

Frank nodded with a smile and a spark of pride in his eye. "I was there for all his firsts," he said with a chuckle. "I don't much remember his first words or his first steps, but I was there the first time he got drunk, the first time he got stoned and the first time he got laid."

"All the important ones," Eames snarked. "You must have been so proud."

The two men laughed as Goren came out of the bathroom. "What's so funny?" he asked.

With a chuckle, Logan said, "Frank was just telling us about the first time you got laid."

Goren looked confused and then worried. "No, he wasn't...were you?"

With another laugh, Frank shook his head. "I left out the intimate details."

Goren looked relieved. Eames stepped up to him and placed her hands flat against his shirt. She wondered how Logan knew that the shirt he picked out was one of her favorites. Deep blue in color, it was made of downy soft fabric. She loved stroking the soft shirt, which made it one of his favorites as well. He placed his hands on her waist as she rubbed her palms over his shirt. Some of the anxious tension in his chest eased and he leaned in to kiss her. Unexpectedly, he became lost in the embrace, pulling her snugly against him and deepening the kiss. She slid her arms around his neck and played with the shirt's collar. Logan and Frank exchanged a smile. "She's good for him," Frank observed.

"Hell, yeah," Logan replied. "But if we don't break it up, Momma is gonna walk in on a lot more than she needs to see."

Frank laughed as Logan stepped closer to the busy couple. "Hey, hey, hey," he said lightly. "Break it up. Mom's gonna be here any minute."

Eames stepped back reluctantly and smoothed the front of her shirt, working to bring herself back under control. It was more of a struggle for Goren to do the same. Logan grabbed his coffee from earlier and pressed it into his hand. "Man, you two have to get a handle on this before you go back to work."

Goren took a deep drink, then made a face and looked at the cup. "It's cold," he complained.

"It's from this morning," Logan agreed, taking the cup back and putting it on the tray table.

The cold coffee did the trick. Distracted from his arousal, Goren seemed to settle as he sat down with a grunt and pulled on his shoes. He rubbed his aching side and leaned his head back, eyes closed. "What time is it?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"12:27," his brother answered.

Goren opened his eyes and sat forward, looking at Frank. "I know you didn't want to do this..." he began.

Frank shrugged. "Alex asked so nicely, and you had such a hard time when you had to do it alone. I didn't want Ma to put you through that again. It's just not right. Haven't I always taken care of you?"

"You have."

"Well...I protected you from her when you were little. I feel like that's something I should keep doing."

"I'm not little any more. I can take care of myself."

"I know that, Bobby, but sometimes, you still need to be protected."

Goren shifted his gaze to Eames, who nodded. "Sometimes," she agreed.

Normally, Goren would argue the point. He'd learned to take care of himself over the years. But he didn't really remember his mother very well, not like Frank did, and he was willing to let Frank be his big brother right now, if it was a role he wanted to fill.

Standing by his chair, Eames reached out and smoothed a few stray curls. He slid his hand along her waist and smiled at her. She saw the anxiety in his eyes and in the way he held himself. She lightly ran her fingers around his ear, silently letting him know that he was going to be okay, and he believed her.

Right on time, a knock filled the quiet of the room. Logan opened the door and nodded at Sutter, hoping the brothers were ready to deal with their mother. Something told him it would be another difficult visit.

Sutter motioned for Frankie to enter the room ahead of him. With a gentle touch, he guided her through the doorway. She stopped to look around the room, and he stepped to her side. He knew Goren, Eames and Logan, but not the other man, who had to be the older son, Frank. Sutter was glad to find him there. Perhaps his wife wouldn't be so hard on Robert this time. Perhaps she would focus on Frank and cut the younger man a break. Sutter hoped that seeing Frank, her favorite, would be enough to prevent another visit to her altered reality, where 'they' sought at every turn to do horrible, ill-defined things to the people she loved. Faced with a reality that shattered the delusion she'd created over three decades earlier to escape a life she no longer wanted to live, he realized she was very close to a break. He'd sent his daughter and the baby home and followed the suggestions of her doctors, hoping they knew what they were doing. Such a situation had never presented itself before, and so much of her care was trial and error as it was. Although a break seemed inevitable, by supporting her fantasies this time, the doctors hoped to avoid a major episode. Perhaps this one would be mild, even one that could be managed at home. He had his doubts. The last time they hoped for a mild event, she'd been two months in the hospital under sedation.

Once in the room, she stopped and looked at the people who waited there. She was very displeased to see Eames and Logan. Suppose she preferred to visit her son without their supervision? Why did they have to be present? Vague memories of William Goren flashed through her fragile mind. Something wasn't right about the way they hovered about her son. Eames moved, catching Frankie's attention. The woman dared to place a hand on Bobby's shoulder. She was standing far too close to him, acting much too familiar. Frankie's mind still cringed at memories of William, coming home well after midnight, drunk and smelling like sex. She scowled at Eames, a woman she saw dragging Bobby in his father's lecherous footsteps, to be led astray by promises of carnal pleasure. She wanted to chase that woman away from her son, but hesitated when Logan moved in from the other side in a protective gesture that she misinterpreted as possessive. Exactly which one laid claim to Bobby? Both perhaps? William would be appalled at the mere suggestion that a son of his could possibly be attracted to anything but a woman. That thought brought her great satisfaction. Then she noticed the other man in the room. His resemblance to Bobby was undeniable, and she could only conclude that he must be her older son, the son she had always loved best. "Frank?" she said as she stepped toward him. "My Frankie?"

Frank took a step back and raised his hand. "The only reason I'm here is because Bobby asked me to be here. I'm here for him, because seeing you has had him so badly shaken. So say what you have to say and try not to rattle my brother again. Let's get this over with because I have better things to do with my time than spend it with you."

Frankie was stunned. "You dare to speak like that to your mother?"

Frank couldn't keep from getting angry. "My mother? My mother?" he demanded, incredulous. "You really dare to play that card?"

"Frank..." Goren said softly.

Frank turned toward his brother. "No, Bobby. Don't go getting all soft now. You're too sensitive for your own good sometimes. I know there's a lot you don't remember, and that's always been a good thing, but the one thing I do need you to realize is that, as bad as you remember it being with her, it was always a whole lot worse."

Goren cocked his head a little to the left and swallowed hard. "I...I remember...a lot..." he started.

Frank had no doubt of that. His brother had a phenomenal memory, but there was a lot that remained hidden in the recesses of his mind. His claustrophobia reminded him of the closets in which she had locked him, and his anxiety filled in some of the other blanks, but his mind protected him by suppressing much of what had happened when he was little. "I know you do," he said softly before turning back to his mother. The tenderness left his voice, replaced by hard anger. "After you left, he never got locked in another closet, never had to suffer through another beating or get screamed at because he was too damn perceptive. After you left, he never doubted that he was loved. I never let him doubt it because he'd questioned his life enough!"

Struggling not to show any of his pain, physical or otherwise, Goren got up from the chair. "Frank..." he said quietly as he stepped toward his brother. Frank looked at him as he said, "I...I didn't want this. I wanted..." He licked his lips and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I wanted her to tell us why. I think she owes us that much."

"That and a whole lot more. Bobby, nothing she has to say can make up for what she did to us. Nothing!"

Focused entirely on his brother, Goren moved closer to him. "I don't expect anything from her," he said, not really surprised by Frank's angry outburst. "There's no justification for what she did, sick or not. I only want to hear what she has to say about it."

Calmed by his younger brother's gentle words, Frank reached out and squeezed Goren's arm. Turning to face their mother, he said, "Say what you have to say. After that, I never want to see you again."

"How can you say that?" she cried. "I took care of you! I raised you! You weren't a boy any more the last time I saw you!"

"What about him?" Frank demanded angrily. "He was only twelve! He deserved more than I could give him! He deserved a mother!"

"I don't care about him right now!"

Frank shook his head in disgust. "That's the problem. You never did."

"You don't understand!" she shrieked. "I...I couldn't do it. He was...so...so..."

"What?" Frank challenged. "What was he? So gentle? So kind? Was he too sensitive? Because that's what he was when you left him!"

"No, no! He was a terrible child! He was drinking and smoking and cavorting with girls..."

"No, he wasn't! He was twelve! You're thinking of me! I was doing all that when you left! Not Bobby!" Frank took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. "Not Bobby...he was thirteen the first time he got drunk and fifteen the first time he slept with a girl! That was well after you were gone. You left because of me, not because of him. How dare you make him think otherwise! Why would you put that on him?"

Frankie's face twisted into a look of disdain. "How can you defend him? He was awful!"

Frank shook his head. "After you left, I raised him! I did! I know where he was and what he was doing because he trusted me. I was the only one he had and I was the only one who never let him down. I was the only one who loved him." He turned fully to face his brother. "I'm sorry, man. I thought I could do this, but I can't. Just remember...she's wrong. I was the one, not you. She left because of me, and I'm fine with that. It ended up being best for you. No regrets, little brother. I've got no regrets."

He gave his brother a hug and looked at Eames. "You got this?" he asked.

She nodded. "We'll take care of him."

He smiled and left the room, not giving his mother another glance.

"Frank!" she called, but he was gone. She turned to Goren, enraged. "Look what you did! You turned him against me!"

Goren raised his eyebrows. "I did?"

"You hateful boy!"

She began to advance on him, hand raised to strike, but Sutter had seen and heard enough. "That's it!" he roared, grabbing her arm and holding her firmly. He had years of experience in restraining her without hurting her. "I don't know what you have against this man or the boy he once was, but I've had enough. It's time to leave him in peace."

Goren stepped forward. "No, colonel. Please. If-If I'm going to have any peace, I need answers."

Sutter studied the younger man, who had carried the burden of his mother's abandonment for far too long. Reluctantly, he released his wife. "Answer his questions, Frankie, and then you can be done with him. For the life of me, I don't know why you insisted on seeing him again, if your only goal was to tear him down."

She looked at her husband with surprise. "Why...What do you mean?"

Sutter motioned toward Goren. "Just...talk to him, so we can leave him to rest and recover."

She looked at Goren, who stood near the chair with Eames beside him. He was much more pale than he had been when they arrived. "Well?" she said irritably, without sympathy. "What do you want to know?"

Eames trembled with rage, but she held her tongue and let him speak. His manner, patient and gentle, changed nothing in her mind. That woman did not deserve his kindness or his forgiveness. She did not deserve him. "Why...that's all I want to know. Why did you leave?"

"Your brother was the good one," she said. "I couldn't handle you, and I knew you weren't going to get any better. Your father was gone, and I couldn't raise you by myself. Don't you see—I had no choice."

Goren's expression did not change. "No, I don't see. We were your sons. You had a responsibility to us, and you walked away from it. Whatever I was, good or bad, you had a hand in creating."

"Your father left me," she asserted. "He abandoned me with two young boys to raise all by myself. Boys!" She shook her head. "I couldn't do it, so the fire...the fire was a blessing to me. That fire relieved me of my responsibilities and I was able to begin my life over. I was so fortunate to find Terrance, who has been a perfect father to my children."

Goren's eyes shifted to Sutter, whose expression was a mix of anger, sorrow and regret. Sutter was deeply disappointed in his wife, at her malicious attitude toward the sons she had not seen in over three decades. Goren looked back at his mother. He did not doubt that the fire her mind had conjured had once been very real to her, that she had believed at the time that he and Frank were dead. "Did you ever give Frank and me another passing thought?"

"Why would I? I had to put you behind me so I could love the children Terrance gave me."

"And the picture?"

"What picture?"

Much of the color had returned to his face, but it was the color of anger, not health. "The one of Frank and me on the mantel in East Hampton. You took it with you when you left. I saw it the first time we came out to talk to the colonel."

Frankie looked at her husband. "You kept that old thing?"

"That picture deserved to be seen, Frankie. Those boys deserved to be remembered."

"You sentimental fool," she snapped and looked back at Goren. "I haven't seen that picture since I married Terrance. I threw it away long ago."

Eames could not believe what she was hearing, that the woman saw absolutely nothing wrong with her actions. She didn't understand how she could discard her sons as easily as a photograph. "The same way you threw away your sons?" she asked in a tone of bitter anger.

Goren turned his head toward her, surprised by her anger, but she was focused on Frankie. Seeing the fire in her honey-brown eyes, he remained silent, hesitant to interfere. Frankie gave her a look of disdain. "What are you?" the old woman asked with an air of superiority. "One of his tramps, I suppose. He's just like his father."

Eames took two steps forward, stopping when her partner touched her shoulder. She remained focused on his mother. "You know nothing about him and you have no right to judge him—or me."

"I know where he came from. That's enough for me to know both of you."

Eames barely held onto her anger, balling her hands into fists at her side. Goren stepped forward to stand beside her. He slid his hand down her arm, and she could feel the anger in him. "Let it go," he said. "She's not worth it."

She looked up at him, ignoring the noise Frankie made in response to his words. She could see the rage, barely controlled, in his dark eyes. She could feel it in the tremor of his hand where it touched her arm. She was impressed by his control, his ability to remain so calm in the face of the anger he must be feeling. She tried to do as he asked and let go of her anger, but only because he'd asked. He turned back to his mother. "I remember more than my brother realizes," he said with a calm that belied the turmoil churning just beneath the surface of his control. "And I know the damage you did. But...you were still my mother, and I never understood why you left. Now...now I know, and now I understand. You did the best thing you could have done for us. You left us with each other." His eyes narrowed. "Maybe Frank made some mistakes. Maybe I caused him some frustration. But he says he has no regrets, and neither do I."

Goren shifted his eyes to Sutter, whose shoulders carried the weight of his wife's illness and the injustice she'd forced upon her sons. "I'm sorry," the colonel said, sincere in his regret. "But thank you for seeing her."

Goren nodded, his fury made a little calmer, a little easier to control by the strength of Sutter's character. "You love her, for all her flaws. I understand that kind of love. You've been good to her, and she needs you." He set his jaw and tipped his chin up just a little, letting them know that he carried with him a pride she could not destroy. "But I don't need her. I have the answers I wanted. It's time for her to leave us behind, once and for all. Nothing can right the wrong she did, but now I think I can let her go."

Never able to take criticism, Frankie advanced on him with a cry of rage, lashing out as she often had when he was a boy. Sutter, who knew her well, had never seen such overwhelming rage in her, but Goren had seen it before, many years ago, and it was one of the things he had never forgotten. He braced himself as she struck him. He had no intention to retaliate, but he did not anticipate his partner's protective reaction. Usually, he was the one stepping forth to protect her. He did not expect her to step in to protect him, but she did, receiving several blows intended for him. She also had no qualms about striking out to protect them both. She landed a single blow before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away.

As soon as Frankie attacked, Logan started toward them, but he was across the room and Sutter got there first. The colonel grabbed his wife and pulled her away from the partners at the same time Goren grabbed Eames. Sutter recognized the signs of her breakdown and he ordered Logan to get a nurse or doctor. He held her firmly as she continued to struggle, yelling at the two detectives she had just attacked. She called them servants of Satan and accused them of pursuing her children and her grandson. They were the ones who had taken Frank and Bobby from her. Frantically, she insisted that Sutter let her go so she could protect the children, which was something time and experience had taught him never to allow.

Goren slowly released Eames as Logan returned with a cadre of nurses. Sutter wrestled Frankie to the floor and held her firmly so she could neither escape nor get hurt. His lip was bleeding and his eye was swollen where she had managed to strike him before he got her under control and away from the partners. "She's schizophrenic," he explained. "She's having a breakdown."

One of the nurses ran from the room, returning with a doctor, who ordered her to administer the powerful sedative he'd had her bring. Once Frankie was calm, they called for a stretcher. Logan had remained close to Sutter, to help if necessary, and he held out a hand to help Sutter to his feet, handing him a clean handkerchief. Tehy wheeled Frankie from the room.

"You okay?" Logan asked.

Sutter nodded. "This is nothing." He lifted his shirt away from the waist of his jeans to reveal the scar left by a knife wound in his side. "She did that to me years ago, before I learned how to approach and restrain her."

Eames looked at Goren, who touched her elbow, his eyes searching hers. She reached out and ran her fingers over a bruise that was already forming on his jaw where Frankie had hit him with as much force as she could manage. He pulled her into a hug, reassuring her. As he released her, Sutter said, "You remember that, don't you?"

"It's not something you ever forget."

"No, it's not. I hoped I was wrong this time when I saw it coming. I hope I'm wrong every time, but I never am. I'll arrange for her to be transferred so her own doctors can treat her. I am truly sorry, son. She said some terrible things."

"She's said and done worse," he replied. "I remember a lot worse. I guess I've always been a demon's spawn in her eyes."

"You can't take anything she says to heart."

"I know that now, but I didn't when I was seven. She...she did a lot of damage during the first five years of her disease. Frank tried to fix it, but he didn't know how. But I survived."

Sutter extended a hand which Goren readily accepted. "I think you turned out very well, my boy. I promise, I will never ask you to do this again. But I hope that I can still call you sometime?"

Goren nodded. His mother had robbed him of the chance to have Sutter as his father, and that was probably the worst thing she had ever done to him. "I'd like that, sir."

Sutter smiled. "Maybe we can go fishing or something."

"Maybe. "

Sutter knew he could never make up for the past, but he genuinely regretting not having Goren for a son. He smiled at Eames, thanked Logan for the help he'd offered and left the room. Goren closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, holding his hands in tight fists to keep them from shaking.

"That was quite a show," Logan observed. "You grew up with that?"

Goren opened his eyes to look at his friend. He nodded. "She showed symptoms years before her first break with reality. I didn't understand it back then, and I was terrified. Frank didn't understand it, either, but he tried to be brave, so I wouldn't be so scared. He always tried to protect me, but he wasn't much of a match for her."

Eames slipped her hand into his and tugged. He let her lead him to the bed and sat down. Gingerly, he touched his jaw, then he lightly rubbed her arm. "I...I remember...the first time..."

He trailed off and trembled at the memory. Eames stepped in front of him and began to unbutton his shirt. He looked down and watched her free each button. She'd moved past most of her anger; the bit that remained was for the frightened child he had been. He, however, still felt the rage and he was having a hard time letting it go. He kept his hands in tight fists, and Eames knew that when he finally moved past it, he was going to crash hard. Although he still had deeply mixed emotions and loyalties concerning his mother, Eames hoped he had been honest with Sutter when he said he could now let go. As she undid the button at each wrist, his hands finally began to relax. She helped him remove the shirt, tossing it onto the chair. She was surprised to find another bruise darkening on his chest. She touched it lightly. "She hit you hard."

She had hit him hard, in more ways than one, and now that his rage was fading, he felt the dull ache of the fresh bruises. He pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "She's, uh, very intense, and..." He paused, searching for words he could not find. "You...You defended me."

She touched his jaw, gently fondling the still-darkening bruise. Her bruises were hidden, unlike his, but he didn't seem to notice his vulnerability at the moment. "Of course I did," she said, kissing him lightly.

Logan cleared his throat, interrupting the moment. "If you're okay now, I'm gonna get going."

Goren drew his attention away from Eames and looked at him. "I'm okay...uh, we, we're okay. Thanks...for staying."

"Don't mention it. What are friends for?"

"It's been a long time..."

When he trailed off again, Logan just nodded. "I think you're right that the best thing she could have done was leave. I'm glad you have your answers now, as painful as it might have been for you to get them."

Although Goren agreed, he didn't respond. Eames gently pushed his shoulders, forcing him to lay back on the bed. He coughed, drawing in a sharp breath at the pain in his side. Logan moved to the bedside. "Frank sure laid it out for her. He was a lot nicer than I would have been, but he said everything I wanted to say." He squeezed Goren's arm. "Get some rest. I'll come by tomorrow. How 'bout I bring breakfast? Maybe a magazine or two?"

Goren's eyelids were heavy, his smile, sleepy. "Sounds good."

"Good night, kids," he said lightly as he crossed the room and left.

Eames watched Goren for a minute. Now that he wasn't so tense, his body was forcing him toward sleep. She helped him to change and then pulled the sheet up over him. He shifted in the bed and motioned for her to join him.

As she climbed into the bed beside him, he rubbed his chest where it burned beneath the darkening bruise caused by the blow of his mother's fist. Eames chased his hand away as she did when he scratched the healing knife wound in his side. She placed a tender kiss on the bruise.

He smiled and gently pulled her into a hug. "Are you sure...she didn't hurt you?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Just a couple of bruises."

He guided her closer into a kiss, and she could feel the tension continue to leave his body. Snuggling into his side, she caressed his chest and watched him struggle against his fatigue. She continued to tenderly stroke his skin until he surrendered to sleep.