"No, no…oh god…no…" cries Eames.
Deakins moves to catch her from falling. Gently holding her, he maneuvers her over to one of the chairs.
"Alex, I'm so sorry." Whispers Deakins.
Eames tries to pull away, but Deakins only tightens his hold on her. Deakins feels her small fist pounding against his chest; asking, begging; "Why, why, why?"
The office thermostat read 80 (f) degrees but that didn't keep a shiver from going up his spine after hearing Eames' plea for answers. He for one hated that question, for two reason. One, he didn't have an answer that could possibly make the pain go away. Second of all, because he's asked himself that question too many times during his career and never found 'the answer'. He had grown to despise, the question – feared it. So he did what anybody would do – avoided it at all costs.
But this time was different. Running away or sweeping it under the rug wasn't an option. Because one his own detectives is dead. And his partner, who is one of the strongest willed person he knows; is here crying into his shirt like a child who has just lost their beloved pet.
Crime scene 11th and 55th
Everything appeared normal to Eames when she arrived on the scene. Cops and medics swarmed the crime scene. That all changed when she saw the white sheet covering the victim – her partner. Crouching down Eames slowly pulls back the sheet, and stops, hoping, to see a victim she didn't know. An anonymous stranger who's life was cut short by a weird twist of fate or unhappy circumstances. She wondered how Goren did it, to look at the victim and not feel anything for them. At least outwardly, he never let it show.
Eames hesitates before pulling the sheet back. In her heart of hearts she knew it wasn't necessary to look, or to put herself through this exercise of futility. The officers who arrived on the scene had already ID'd the victim as NYPD Detective Robert Goren. On the other hand she knew if she didn't look for herself. She'd never be able to admit or accept that he's GONE.
Pulling back the sheet, everything stopped. Everything but the reality that it was her partner laying here, that he is gone. It was too surreal for Eames. Her lips quivered at the sight of the two bullet slugs logged in her partner's skull. Briefly turning away to catch her breathe Trying to hold back the tears she thought she had no more to give, frozen she stares at nothing in particular.
After regaining her composure Eames closes her eyes and slowly traces Goren's face, taking in every detail through touch – memorizing it. When her fingers hit his perpetual stubble a small smile found it's way on her face. The feeling of a strong hand resting on her should, breaks her trance. Without thinking she blurts; "Bobby?"
Deakins is slightly taken back by her answer. Then remembered he had the same reaction after losing his partner on the job. This time he wished he wasn't the one here, and it was the intuitive odd ball Detective Goren investing the homicide.
"Alex. Let me take you home." Pleads Deakins.
Blinking away the tears to come, Eames places her hand on Deakins' while saying a few words for Bobby.
Every bone in her body told her to curl up and die right then and there. But her heart told her to be strong, and continue to live. Not just for her, or for Bobby but for everyone (public) else who needed them - her, to help bring them (families) closure and justice. That's what he'd want that.
The Captain stood patiently by Alex, watching, hoping she would be able to get past this tragic event and move on. Not fall into the depths of darkness and depression. He knew she was strong and he knew her strength would be tested over the next few weeks. But what he didn't know is, would her strength alone be enough to her through this…"We'll get the bastard who did this."
TBC? I don't know.