Disclaimer: LOCI - not mine. Yay!
A/N: DUDE! AN UPDATE! IS SHE ON CRACK? No, no I am not. I have just started a history class about the French Revolution. Thus, I spend much time procrastinating. So I've been writing! Here we go, second to last chapter. *tear*
'Jesus,' Eames thought, settling into her chair for the first time in hours. She put her head in her hands and just tried to breathe. She had been through tense pinches before, but that took the cake.
"Detective Eames, I'm sorry to disturb you... someone from the hospital is on line one." Eames lifted her head and looked wearily at the phone. "this better be good news," she muttered.
"One last thing..."
"Bobby! You're awake."
"You're observant." There was a hint of humor in his voice, but mostly Eames could hear his pain.
"I'll be over in a few minutes. There's something you need to know."
*
"Something happened to Emily, right?" Goren asked immediately. Eames wilted slightly. She didn't want to tell him this, but now she was stuck.
"Why do you say that?"
"It's all over your face... not to mention, I can feel it."
"She's actually upstairs in surgery."
"What happened?"
"Her sister shot her."
"What happened to her sister?" Eames lowered her eyes.
"I shot her."
"Well, she had a gun. You didn't have a choice."
"I didn't even get to find out why she did it... I suppose you know," Eames said somewhat bitterly.
"I actually have no idea. I don't care."
A few minutes of silence passed. Eames couldn't think of a thing in the world that would be sufficient to say. She wanted to say she was sorry, that she knew how much Bobby had at stake. How she didn't want him to be ashamed for showing a weakness, that she knew all too well how hard it was to lose someone. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he beat her to it.
"Do you think you can go find out how she's doing? I just... I need to know." Eames nodded.
"Of course. I'll find out. I think she'll be okay, Bobby. She was conscious on the scene. She was lucid. She told me to tell you... well, I don't really understand. But she told me to tell you that you can't blame yourself for pink water." Eames stumbled over her delivery, something about the way in which Emily had said it made it sound magical; coming from Eames, it was clumsy and unfair. Goren squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. Eames turned to leave. "Maybe you could tell me what she meant?"
"Someday. Ask me again."
"Sure thing."
*
"I'm sorry, but I really need to know what's going on in there!"
The surgical receptionist gave her a blank stare. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. You're not a relative, right?"
"No, but I'm a police officer. It's pertinent to the investigation that you tell me - right now - the patient's status."
Bored, she rolled her eyes. "She's still in surgery. I think they're closing up. Why don't you wait outside the operating room for the doctor?" Eames let out a frustrated sigh and practically ran to the OR doors. She couldn't see much through them, just a hospital blue drape and the surgeons huddled around the table. A sudden wave of nausea hit her as she remembered seeing the same sights years ago. She closed her eyes against it, but still they came; images of her beloved husband, his face too white, too peaceful.
"Detective?" Eames was torn from her thoughts Grateful, she turned to the voice - a young woman, in the horrendous blue scrubs splashed with a tiny bit of red.
"Yes?"
"Miss Dimitrio had extensive injuries to her liver and colon, but we were able to remove the damaged sections. She'll have quite a long road to recovery, but she will recover."
*
"Bobby!" Eames ran into his room to find his bed empty. "Nurse, where is Detective Goren?" The nurse shrugged and looked around.
"Maybe he went to the restroom. I'll check."
"Forget it, I will," Eames barrelled around the corner and into the men's restroom. "Bobby, are you in here?" His face popped out of a stall.
"Is she all right?"
"She's fine, Bobby! They just got done with her surgery. The surgeon said she has a long road, but she's going to be just fine."
He shuffled out, clutching his IV stand and wincing in pain. His eyes were welling with tears, and he ducked his head as if to hide them from Eames. She walked up to him and carefully laid a hand on his arm. "Bobby, there isn't a thing in the world that could make me lose the respect I have for you. You don't need to hide from me. You've been through so much over the last few days, and frankly, you deserve to cry." He looked at her, and she nearly started crying. He conveyed so much with his eyes. She helped him back to his bed, where he took her up on her offer and began to gently cry.
"She tried to kill herself. Years ago. That's why we broke up. Well, not exactly. Emily, no matter how much I loved her and assured her I was happy with her, she just couldn't accept it. She doubted herself constantly, and that alone took a toll on our relationship. But... there was something about her. I couldn't... desert her. I just couldn't. And after awhile things looked up. She started to... trust me. In little ways. Then I proposed to her, and she said yes, and our life was just... perfect. About two weeks after I proposed, she tried to kill herself by slitting her wrists and her thigh - I'm sure you deduced that from our interrogation, she was trying to hit her femoral artery. It was where her mother had cut herself when she died. That was an accident, but Emily's... was for real. It wasn't a cry for help, it wasn't an attention seeker - she meant and truly wanted to die. I found her, I guess in time, because obviously she lived. But she never forgave me that. She didn't come back to me. She got out of the hospital and vanished. When I saw Damon's injury, I don't know - I just had this sense, this reminder. I felt like she was close to me. And when I found her picture, well that just cemented my fears. I don't know if I ever truly believed she was capable of murder - but to make her point, Emily would do anything. It was far-fetched, but I admit I wasn't confident in my beliefs. It was just... if I pretended...."
"You knew you'd have to interrogate her. You could see her again, get your answers," Eames supplied.
"Exactly. I needed... I just needed... to see her. To see that she was all right. It was typical Emily to include Nicole. Any way she can prove she's still in control, she'll use it. It can be very endearing. It can also drive you nuts."
"But you were right, as usual. It wasn't her."
"But she would've gone down for it. Because I had to see her, she would have gone to prison. And she was only part of the sting on her sister because of me. It seems I can't keep myself from hurting her, although that's the last thing I've ever wanted to do."
"Bobby. She was up on that roof with her sister because of me and Deakins. Mostly because of me. And her sister didn't shoot her because of you. You really can't take the blame for those things. They would have happened if you were there."
Bobby smiled a little, but his face was largely disbelieving. "I appreciate your saying that. Maybe someday I'll get to the point where I don't blame myself for everything... but that isn't today. Not with the love of my life nearly dead and my partner tormented by the whole thing."
"Don't you dare worry about me. I'm fine. Just another exciting day with the NYPD," Eames snarked.
A nurse walked in and glared disapprovingly at Eames. "Visiting hours have been over for quite some time, Detective." Eames stood.
"Sorry. I'll be back tomorrow, Bobby. Please get some rest. Don't beat yourself up, that's Deakins' job." He smiled at her.
"Thank you, Alex."
A/N: DUDE! AN UPDATE! IS SHE ON CRACK? No, no I am not. I have just started a history class about the French Revolution. Thus, I spend much time procrastinating. So I've been writing! Here we go, second to last chapter. *tear*
'Jesus,' Eames thought, settling into her chair for the first time in hours. She put her head in her hands and just tried to breathe. She had been through tense pinches before, but that took the cake.
"Detective Eames, I'm sorry to disturb you... someone from the hospital is on line one." Eames lifted her head and looked wearily at the phone. "this better be good news," she muttered.
"One last thing..."
"Bobby! You're awake."
"You're observant." There was a hint of humor in his voice, but mostly Eames could hear his pain.
"I'll be over in a few minutes. There's something you need to know."
*
"Something happened to Emily, right?" Goren asked immediately. Eames wilted slightly. She didn't want to tell him this, but now she was stuck.
"Why do you say that?"
"It's all over your face... not to mention, I can feel it."
"She's actually upstairs in surgery."
"What happened?"
"Her sister shot her."
"What happened to her sister?" Eames lowered her eyes.
"I shot her."
"Well, she had a gun. You didn't have a choice."
"I didn't even get to find out why she did it... I suppose you know," Eames said somewhat bitterly.
"I actually have no idea. I don't care."
A few minutes of silence passed. Eames couldn't think of a thing in the world that would be sufficient to say. She wanted to say she was sorry, that she knew how much Bobby had at stake. How she didn't want him to be ashamed for showing a weakness, that she knew all too well how hard it was to lose someone. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he beat her to it.
"Do you think you can go find out how she's doing? I just... I need to know." Eames nodded.
"Of course. I'll find out. I think she'll be okay, Bobby. She was conscious on the scene. She was lucid. She told me to tell you... well, I don't really understand. But she told me to tell you that you can't blame yourself for pink water." Eames stumbled over her delivery, something about the way in which Emily had said it made it sound magical; coming from Eames, it was clumsy and unfair. Goren squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. Eames turned to leave. "Maybe you could tell me what she meant?"
"Someday. Ask me again."
"Sure thing."
*
"I'm sorry, but I really need to know what's going on in there!"
The surgical receptionist gave her a blank stare. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. You're not a relative, right?"
"No, but I'm a police officer. It's pertinent to the investigation that you tell me - right now - the patient's status."
Bored, she rolled her eyes. "She's still in surgery. I think they're closing up. Why don't you wait outside the operating room for the doctor?" Eames let out a frustrated sigh and practically ran to the OR doors. She couldn't see much through them, just a hospital blue drape and the surgeons huddled around the table. A sudden wave of nausea hit her as she remembered seeing the same sights years ago. She closed her eyes against it, but still they came; images of her beloved husband, his face too white, too peaceful.
"Detective?" Eames was torn from her thoughts Grateful, she turned to the voice - a young woman, in the horrendous blue scrubs splashed with a tiny bit of red.
"Yes?"
"Miss Dimitrio had extensive injuries to her liver and colon, but we were able to remove the damaged sections. She'll have quite a long road to recovery, but she will recover."
*
"Bobby!" Eames ran into his room to find his bed empty. "Nurse, where is Detective Goren?" The nurse shrugged and looked around.
"Maybe he went to the restroom. I'll check."
"Forget it, I will," Eames barrelled around the corner and into the men's restroom. "Bobby, are you in here?" His face popped out of a stall.
"Is she all right?"
"She's fine, Bobby! They just got done with her surgery. The surgeon said she has a long road, but she's going to be just fine."
He shuffled out, clutching his IV stand and wincing in pain. His eyes were welling with tears, and he ducked his head as if to hide them from Eames. She walked up to him and carefully laid a hand on his arm. "Bobby, there isn't a thing in the world that could make me lose the respect I have for you. You don't need to hide from me. You've been through so much over the last few days, and frankly, you deserve to cry." He looked at her, and she nearly started crying. He conveyed so much with his eyes. She helped him back to his bed, where he took her up on her offer and began to gently cry.
"She tried to kill herself. Years ago. That's why we broke up. Well, not exactly. Emily, no matter how much I loved her and assured her I was happy with her, she just couldn't accept it. She doubted herself constantly, and that alone took a toll on our relationship. But... there was something about her. I couldn't... desert her. I just couldn't. And after awhile things looked up. She started to... trust me. In little ways. Then I proposed to her, and she said yes, and our life was just... perfect. About two weeks after I proposed, she tried to kill herself by slitting her wrists and her thigh - I'm sure you deduced that from our interrogation, she was trying to hit her femoral artery. It was where her mother had cut herself when she died. That was an accident, but Emily's... was for real. It wasn't a cry for help, it wasn't an attention seeker - she meant and truly wanted to die. I found her, I guess in time, because obviously she lived. But she never forgave me that. She didn't come back to me. She got out of the hospital and vanished. When I saw Damon's injury, I don't know - I just had this sense, this reminder. I felt like she was close to me. And when I found her picture, well that just cemented my fears. I don't know if I ever truly believed she was capable of murder - but to make her point, Emily would do anything. It was far-fetched, but I admit I wasn't confident in my beliefs. It was just... if I pretended...."
"You knew you'd have to interrogate her. You could see her again, get your answers," Eames supplied.
"Exactly. I needed... I just needed... to see her. To see that she was all right. It was typical Emily to include Nicole. Any way she can prove she's still in control, she'll use it. It can be very endearing. It can also drive you nuts."
"But you were right, as usual. It wasn't her."
"But she would've gone down for it. Because I had to see her, she would have gone to prison. And she was only part of the sting on her sister because of me. It seems I can't keep myself from hurting her, although that's the last thing I've ever wanted to do."
"Bobby. She was up on that roof with her sister because of me and Deakins. Mostly because of me. And her sister didn't shoot her because of you. You really can't take the blame for those things. They would have happened if you were there."
Bobby smiled a little, but his face was largely disbelieving. "I appreciate your saying that. Maybe someday I'll get to the point where I don't blame myself for everything... but that isn't today. Not with the love of my life nearly dead and my partner tormented by the whole thing."
"Don't you dare worry about me. I'm fine. Just another exciting day with the NYPD," Eames snarked.
A nurse walked in and glared disapprovingly at Eames. "Visiting hours have been over for quite some time, Detective." Eames stood.
"Sorry. I'll be back tomorrow, Bobby. Please get some rest. Don't beat yourself up, that's Deakins' job." He smiled at her.
"Thank you, Alex."
