Title: Push, Pull

A/N Ok I know we all love Bobby. And, no he wouldn't harm a hair on Eames' head. But I wanted to show that Eames is human, that she has breakdowns and weaknesses and fears just like everyone. We tend to worry more about Bobby falling into the mental abyss, knowing that Eames will always be there to yank him back from the brink. But what if it's Eames who is teetering on the edge of mental stability? I mean, hell, she can't be the strong one ALL the time. Nor should she be. Bobby and Alex share a connection, deeper than partnership, and I think he may need a wake up call. That maybe he's not the only one who deals with the mental monsters.

PS: Hugs and Kisses to everyone who has encouraged me with this fic! You all are AWESOME!

Chapter 3

"The strength of women is the pretense of weakness, and the weakness of men is the pretense of strength." Anonymous

There is a time, when the walls must crumble and a person's vulnerability will be laid out on the ground, completely exposed. We put up those walls in order to protect that, which is most precious to us, faith in our selves. We may stand, arms crossed, staring defiantly into the darkness we so adamantly fight against, and silently pray that we know what we are doing. We can win; we have the strength to win out over those monsters that lurk in the blackness. Faith can be the most powerful weapon in our arsenal. But, when we lose that faith, and the sickly-grey fingers of doubt creep into our hearts and we blindly fumble around for our convictions, we are lost to the darkness. And we scream, helplessly, blindly, for a savior to the black Hell we tumble into.

Grey light peeked in through the blinds, casting a blue-steel haze throughout the apartment. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, as if to warn the coming of something dangerous and evil. It was shaping up to be a day that was befitting her soul.

Alex had silently watched to window become lighter and lighter, as night gave way to dawn. She lay on her side, in the same spot on the floor where she had scrambled to the night before, trying to escape the demon who consumed her dreams. The tears had long since dried, and she felt dirty and numb. As she lifted herself off the floor, Alex also realized that she was too old to be sleeping on the floor, as her muscles and joints protested loudly. Stripping her clothing as she walked into her bathroom, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

'My God, Eames,' she thought, 'you are in a seriously sad state when you let some stupid movie affect you like this.' Eames toyed with the idea of calling in sick; after all, paperwork was pretty much all that was awaiting her concerning the Verger case. She shuttered as his name flitted through her mind.

'Get a grip Eames! You are not some fragile, porcelain doll. You've worked too damn hard to get to where you are now. It was a case, it's over…move on!' The voice in her head was trying to be strong, but the rest of her wasn't keeping up the battle. Alex let the hot water of her shower wash the night-terror from her skin, reveling in the tension soothing heat.

After the shower, Alex fumbled in her closet for her clothes, eventually settling on some charcoal grey slacks, a black blouse and grey blazer. She tried to hide the darkness under her eyes, but to no avail. She decided that coffee was definitely a need; perhaps the caffeine would give her a much-needed boost. Alex started her coffee pot and reached into the cabinet for her mug, the one with the goofy colors Bobby had teased her about buying.

"It looks like a psyco-delic dream-trip of a hippy on Ecstasy," he'd said.

Bobby. Suddenly his face appeared in her mind with a jolt, her breathe catching in her chest. His image, that face with the eternal five o'clock shadow of stubble…the soft shy smile most were never privy to, (she often felt very special as she was usually the only one who received such rare smiles)…the deep, dark eyes that shown like beacons - stared contently back at her in her mind's eye. Then the image, her partner and friend, contorted and flashed into the demon. The Monster Goren who'd mentally raped her the night before.

Alex slammed the mug down on the cabinet, breaking the handle off with a snap. Her eyes were squeezed shut, as she fought the Monster Goren in her head.

'No! Damn it! You're not real! I'm NOT losing my mind!' She screamed in her head, as the nightmarish alter of her partner began to fuzz, eventually fading out completely.

Alex stood, hands on her cabinet, breathing deeply as she recovered from the vision. She knew she was a strong person. Living in a family with a cop for a dad had made her grow up before her time. Fighting her way through the police academy, making sure that the "good-'ol boy system" understood that she was a capable and talented police officer, made her gain strength in believing in herself. Vice taught her to rely on her own instincts, giving her the confidence that she could take care of herself, as she was often alone, trolling the streets in pinching stilettos. Detective Alex Eames was not weak.

Alex glanced up at her shelf, her eyes falling to the mug that occupied the spot next to hers. It was a tall, solid cup, in a no non-sense dark blue color. It was Bobby's cup. The one he left at her place when he came over to work on late night cases, or when he had an idea that couldn't wait until morning and he knew at he could come to Eames and talk it out. If he just needed to know that someone was there for him, when he was lost in his own mind, Eames would be the one he went to. No matter what the hour, he could call, or knock on her door and she'd be there. That's just the way it was.

Alex stared at his cup for a moment, realizing that it was just like Bobby, to be a constant presence by her side. She was not weak, and she would not let him know how this case had gotten into her mind and soul like a virus invading a host. She couldn't let him know, that despite her best efforts, she had been damaged somewhere along the way. That she was grappling with this fear, a horrible stinking fear, that maybe she didn't know herself as well as she thought.

Alex didn't know how she was going to face her partner. The Monster Goren in her mind was sure to pop up again, once she laid eyes on Bobby, and she knew all of the times Bobby had become violent, seemed to snap into his mother's illness of the mind; or identified with the most evil of suspects - the lines between Goren and suspect blurred enough to make her skin crawl up her neck - would all roll back on her. Alex suddenly became aware, that even though they had been together for four years now, the Robert Goren, the real Robert Goren inside her partner was still a mystery to her. Everyone has a dark side, and she seemed to be the one who always tethered a teetering Bobby to the side of the precipice. She always kept him from falling into his darkness. Now she had to ask herself, if she was strong enough to keep on yanking him back. And perhaps even more frightening, does she really want to keep on trying. After all, if she is always the cement in their relationship, who will be the one to put the pieces back after she, herself, crumbles.

"There are two kinds of weakness, that which breaks, and that which bends." – James Russell Lowell

All of these thoughts clutter Eames' over worked, under-slept brain as she rode in the taxi to One Police Plaza. Anxiety made ugly knots in her gut as the neared the station. As she exited the taxi, Eames chided herself for being so foolish. Bobby was her partner and friend. She had trusted him with her life for more than four years now. There was no way one case, a little lack of sleep and a look-a-like movie character could tear up a four year partnership. Their connection had to be stronger than that, didn't it?

The one thought kept gnawing at her heart, like a dog with a chew toy. Could she do her job, after breaking the golden rule of police work? She let a serial killer into her mind. She let him break down her walls, as efficiently as a bulldozer. She neared the entrance into the bullpen. She knew Bobby would be at his desk, opposite hers. North to her South. Ying to her Yang. Just as they had always been. She kept her eyes lowered, and slowed as she came to the entrance. She didn't have to see him to know where he was. She could sense him - for Bobby Goren had the loudest presence of anyone she knew, and he never had to say a word.

She was afraid. There was no other way of saying it. She was afraid of her partner, and not just because she knew his face would conjure up images of the Monster Goren who sits silently in the corner of her psyche, waiting. No, now she was afraid he wasn't enough anymore. He wouldn't be able to understand the demons of fear and doubt writhing in her gut at that moment. Bobby had always been the one who needed the life line, to be pulled back into reality when he went too far out, and Alex had never questioned her job as that life line. She'd always dutifully done her job, no matter how she, herself, might be feeling; and she would always do just that - because it was him. A new feeling entered Alex, one that she'd never equated with her partner - resent.

Eames was flailing in the darkness, and she did not know if she could trust Bobby to come out of his cerebral world long enough to find her.

'You have to look up sooner or later Eames,' she thought. Slowly, ever so slowly, she brought her eyes to the familiar place in the office, and hated the lump of fear that was rising in her throat.

"Fear is a greater evil than the evil itself." – St. Francois de Saks (1567-1622)

TBC…