She had moved to the doorway when they came in to remove the breathing tube. It hadn't been bloody or anything, but she hadn't been prepared for it, and it unsettled her. They had stopped the sedatives running through his IV a few hours earlier, but waited before extubating him until most of the drugs were out of his system. She watched his chest rise and fall, rhythmically, noticeably, and all on its own. It was odd not hearing the Darth Vader-like rasp of the respirator filling the room. But as much as she'd hated the damn thing, she never resented its being there. After all, hadn't it been breathing for him? Hadn't it given him a break from the work of living and let him heal, so he could go on living? It had saved her from the heartbreak of burying her partner. That would have been a blow from which she'd never have recovered. No, she couldn't lose him…any more than he could bear losing her.

Now the doctor and a nurse stood on either side of his bed, waiting. She stayed by the door, not sure what to do, until the nurse called her over. "Stand here by me, detective. If your devotion is any indication, I think he will want to see you when he comes out of it."

She smiled her appreciation. "How long will it take for him to wake up?"

"He started coming out of it about thirty minutes ago. Give him time; he's been through a lot."

So she waited with them. He would groan and begin to toss, then settle down. "Is he in pain?"

The doctor nodded. "Probably. But I don't want to give him anything until I know his respiratory status will remain stable. The pain will help him come around."

"I don't want him to be in pain."

"Neither do we. But for now, his pain will work for his benefit. We want him to wake up." He started to groan again, but this time he didn't fade out right away. "Talk to him, detective."

She slid her hand into his. "Bobby? Hey, Bobby…come on, wake up." He tossed his head from left to right, shifted his hips. "Come on, Goren. We got work to do."

She watched his eyelids flutter. Slowly, they retreated, and his eyes, those beautiful dark eyes that hid so much from the world around him, came out of hiding. He swallowed hard, looked around the room. Slowly, his eyes came to rest on her. "Eames?" Never had her name sounded so good! His voice was hoarse, quiet, but he was there.

"Hey there, sleepy head. Where you been?" she teased. He smiled at her and she wanted to hug him. "You big ape, you scared the hell out of me."

"Are you ok?"

"Yes…thanks to you, they tell me."

He didn't care about that. All he cared about was that she was ok. "You sure you're ok?"

"Yes, Bobby. I'm ok. Are you in pain?"

"Yes."

She looked at the doctor, who was listening to his chest. He nodded, giving medication and care orders to the nurse. Then he turned to Bobby. "Welcome back, detective."

The doctor left the room, but not before giving her a reassuring smile. She turned her attention back to her partner. He just watched her through half-closed eyes. Gently, she laid a hand on his cheek, reassuringly scruffy. She had watched the nurses shave him every morning, but it didn't seem to matter. Bobby always had a five-o'clock shadow on his face. His eyelids grew heavier. She'd once watched him lift a table and send it across a room, where it shattered when it hit the wall. She'd once seen him subdue a violent and angry two hundred and ninety pound suspect and hold the man against a wall while the uniforms cuffed him. Her powerhouse of a partner was now incapable of even holding up his own eyelids. He slid back to sleep.

She watched him sleep for a few minutes but his sleep was restless; he groaned and tossed as pain bit through his sleep. The nurse returned and injected some medicine into his IV. She watched the monitors and then his face. Smiling at Eames, she said "He should rest easy now."

"Thanks," she grinned back.

She sat down and leaned into the stuffed back of the chair. Thinking back, she tried to replay the first few conversations she'd had with the doctors in her mind, but she didn't really remember them. All she remembered was that they had not come to her and said "I'm sorry…"

She'd once thought waiting for her husband to come out of surgery had been the worst time of her life. And then they had come out and said "I'm sorry…" Those two words had coursed through her mind, burning their way indelibly into her consciousness, over and over, as she waited for word that Bobby was ok. And the word never came…until Logan and Barek had come to take her to see him. Walking to his bedside, she'd had flashbacks of another hospital, another shooting, and the words "I'm sorry…"

But those words had never crossed a doctor's lips. Not this time. No. No one had said those dreaded words, the worst words in the English language. They'd never once led her to believe he wouldn't be ok. "Badly hurt…" Those words made her shudder, but they were infinitely better than "I'm sorry." Even the dreaded "We're doing all we can" had not gripped her heart the way "I'm sorry" did. No…no one was sorry. They had done all they could, and they had saved her partner's life.

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"Eames?"

She started awake. Had someone called her name? "Hey, sleepy head," he called softly, teasing her as she had teased him earlier.

She looked over at the bed. He was awake, lying on his side with his arm tucked under the pillow, and he was watching her. She frowned at him. "Just how long have you been watching me?"

"I don't know. A half hour, maybe. You're sleeping…in a chair?" His voice was still hoarse, but his eyes were bright, alert.

"It's not as uncomfortable as it looks." She stretched and stood up. "What'd you wake me for?" she grumbled. He knew she did not wake cheerfully.

"I got bored." There was that boyish grin she loved so much.

"You got bored?" She tried to sound annoyed, but he knew her too well. "That damn chair there has the imprint of my ass in it, Goren."

"I'm sorry."

Those two words quenched the smile from her eyes. "Don't, Bobby. Don't apologize. Please."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything but that."

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing. We'll talk about it later." She touched his arm reassuringly and looked around. She picked up the Smithsonian. "Deakins brought this by for you. I tried reading it to you, but…how the hell do you read this crap?"

He laughed, then winced as pain shot through his chest. "That's cruel, Eames. Don't make me laugh."

Her face relaxed into a smile. Her partner was back. Reaching out, she lightly touched a bruise that was healing near his temple, where his head had hit the pavement. He closed his eyes as her fingers gently traced the area of fading discoloration. Her fingers slid down the side of his face before she let her hand fall away, and he opened his eyes. He frowned at the tears he saw in her eyes. "Eames…"

She shushed him by placing her fingers on his lips. "I'll have to get you some other magazines" she told him. "Then you won't get so bored."

He reached up and touched her fingers. "Are you sure you're ok?"

His brilliant mind was always at work. Even when he slept, those wheels continued to churn. It was a flawlessly functional machine, and she could see in his eyes that it was working again. "Yeah, Bobby. I'm fine. You want Discover or People?" she teased.

"Tell you what: get both. Then I can read Discover and you can read People."

They were partners. He never excluded her. "Ok, Goren. That's what I'll do."

Reassured by her smile, he rolled carefully onto his back and laid his head against the pillow. The conversation had taken its toll on him. But he was content to know that his partner was safe and seemed to be healing well. He didn't fight it when his fatigue sent him back to sleep.

She watched him sleep, the easy rise and fall of his chest comforting to her. It wasn't the time to discuss what was troubling her. That could wait, until he was stronger. While he slept, she left to get the magazines she'd promised him.