Summary:In two P.O.V.'s. Goren kills himself and Eames is having a hard time coping… This is a simple one shot about – well I don't know what it's about. I'm not good at these summary things.
Disclaimer:Ok, I don't own any of the Law and Order's. Especially not Criminal Intent. Thanks to Dick Wolf for thinking up the awesome characters though. I would steal Goren if I could… Shakes fist
My guide to reading my fic: Ok. I guess that this little bit is kind of like a key or legend for the story. Read below.These: " "mean that someone is speaking.
These: ' ' mean that someone is thinking.
Usually words like: this mean that emphasis is being put on the word. i.e. Sarcastically. Or in a letter.
This: -OoO- means that scene is changing. Usually…
Well, here we go!
-OoO-
Goren's P.O.V.
Thinking about it all, in the end, none of it really mattered. It took more then it gave, it took away Paula, took Kurt. The only thing that I got out of it was the satisfaction of catching the person that did it. And that wasn't the usual satisfaction that I normally get from putting somebody away. It was more of a morbid farewell gift for the people that got hurt, their lives taken as easy as – easier than I can imagine.
I think that this case hurt more than normal because of how it all panned out. Not only are Kurt and Paula gone but it was all my fault. If I hadn't gotten Torrents convicted, if I had of taken the threats seriously and told someone, if I hadn't left Kurt and Paula alone, then none of this would've happened.
Carver says that it wasn't my fault. What would that conceded bastard know? He, like everyone else in the office, thinks that I'm the perfect Detective. Well I don't care what anyone thinks anymore. I caused the death of two innocent children. How can anyone live with that on their conscience? They have no idea how it feels. They probably never will.
Maybe it's time to finish it all. If I wasn't around it would be easier on everyone. Especially on the parents of the kids.
For over ten years I've been doing this job, day in, day out, I've had to see dead people and break the news to their family's. I've had to interrogate some of the most horrible criminals, see them laugh and smile as they remember details of the crimes that they committed. I've had to live with myself everyday knowing some of the worst details of the crimes.
The view is nice here from the bridge. I can see the lights of the city, the skyscrapers that define the skyline. They all reflect on the river. Shimmering as the currents move. It's like a painting. A good place to die.
I've tied the weights to my legs and arms, to drag me down so I won't float back up to the surface. The hardest thing now will be to get up past the barrier that supposedly prevents people from falling, jumping. Up, up, over the wire fence. That wasn't so hard.
I sit down and untie my shoes, take them off, along with my socks, watch, mobile phone, coat and tie. Put them all in one neat, little pile near the wire. I turn back around to face the water. It looks inviting, like a blanket of wetness that will take me away to somewhere else, where I won't have to worry about anything ever again.
"Oh my god. Not another one. Come back off the edge towards me. Whatever it is, it's not worth it. Come back over the wire." I hear an old lady say. I hate to do this to her, but I'm past the point of no return. Maybe if she'd come ten, fifteen minutes earlier I would've gone back. But not now. I don't think even then…
I turn around and look at her. She is old, late seventies I'd guess. Has white hair pulled back in a bun, a gentle caring face. She has her hand outstretched towards me, like she's trying to pull me back through the fence.
I bend over and dig in my coat pocket. I pull out my badge and hand it to her through one of the gaps in the wire fence. "Detective Robert Goren. There was nothing you could do. I – he was going to jump no matter what. Tell them that there are letters for them on my desk." I turn my back to her and look out again across the water. I take a step and there's nothing below my feet. I'm falling, plummeting down towards the water at one-hundred miles an hour. This'll hurt when I hit the water…
-OoO-
Eames's P.O.V.
"Then the man told me that his name was Robert Goren, that he was a Detective. He handed me his badge, then he just
turned around and jumped off." The little old woman, Mrs. Gladys Smith, who is sitting across the table from me says. Oh god Bobby, why did you do it? You always loved life, never got depressed or too sad.
Even though you were absolutely shattered when those two kids got murdered we all thought that you were going to be alright, we all thought that you were smart enough not to do anything stupid. But we were wrong. I should have known that something was wrong on Friday, you weren't yourself. When you said goodbye it was too final sounding. I should have known…
Did you take into account how doing this would affect everyone else? Who's going to look after your Mother? How the squad will do without you? What I will do without you?
"Oh! He also said something about letters on his desk. Dear, are you alright? You're crying." Mrs. Smith asks me. I nod and scrub at my eyes. I can't cry now, 'You don't cry on the job, you cry at home. If you let emotion show then people will take advantage of you.' That's what you always used to say Bobby, and I took your advice all the time. I followed your example. Whether it was on the job or when I was at home by myself. That was how I dealt with things. I don't think that I can deal with anything now though. You always helped me make all my major decisions when I couldn't do it myself.
Wait, letters, she said something about him saying there were letters. I jump up from the sturdy metal chair and sprint out of the room.
"Alex, wait! Where are you going?" I hear Deakins yelling after me. I reach Bobby's desk and start yanking open drawers, riffling through papers. Come on, where did you put them Bobby? I just want to know why you did it. Would you put it in a letter? Would you let anyone know what you were thinking?
I can feel a hand on my shoulder, "Alex, leave it. We've searched the desk already, there's nothing there." Deakins.
No – they have to be wrong. If you said that they were there then they will be there. You never lie Bobby, you wouldn't lie to me. You just wouldn't.
I fling open your bottom draw and lift the papers and files out, putting them next to me on the ground. If you were going to hide something important you'd hide it here. This is where you kept the picture of you and your Mother before she found out that she was sick, it's where you hid your diary from when you were a kid. It's the hidden part of your childhood, but instead of keeping it in your heart you kept it hidden in a draw, where you could lock it away so no one could see it except you when you felt like it.
I feel around for the latch that will release the false bottom. My fingers catch it and I jerk it up roughly, anxiously, begging in my brain that you had hidden them there. I hear a soft click and lift the edges of the wood to reveal the hidden compartment.
There they are! Sitting on a picture of him, Carver, Deakins and I at the Christmas party from last year. I grab the envelopes and shuffle through them.
Bobby's Mother, Deakins, Carver. Finally, at the end there's a package with my name written on it in Bobby's neat handwriting. Clutching it in my hand I put the other envelopes carefully on Bobby's desk and run away from Deakins, to the women's bathroom, so I can read it in peace.
-OoO-
I carefully open the package, taking care not to rip it or damage it in any way. Looking inside I can see that there's a letter and another, smaller envelope. I take out the letter and unfold it, taking the same care that I did with the package.
'Dear Alex,
You've found the package – I knew you would. I put them there so that the others couldn't find them, if they did they would have taken them as evidence or something before you got the chance to read it.
I'm sorry that I've left you alone at work with Deakins and Carver, you three are going to have to finish off the Kirkwood case without me… God, do you know how hard it is to write this? To put everything that I've ever wanted to say to you into a letter?
I bet you're wondering why I did it. Alex, I did it because I couldn't live with myself anymore. Not after what happened with Kurt and Paula. Everyone said that it wasn't my fault, but it was. If I'd taken those threats seriously then none of this would have ever happened, they'd still be alive. How can I live with that on my soul? How could anyone?
In the courtroom, you saw it, that bastard Torrents laughed right in my face, how when he was on the stand, when he was saying how he – killed them he was always looking right at me.. He didn't care that he'd killed two innocent children. He only wanted to hurt me. To make me suffer. And he did, he has.
Oh god, now I'm crying. Heh, you've never seen me cry before, have you Alex? You're lucky, I look awful when I cry. That's why I don't do it often – at all…'
I run my fingers along the page, feeling the bumps that the tears made while he was writing. For some reason it kind of makes me feel better. It makes me feel like he's still here…
'Even as I write this I'm missing you. I can't imagine what it'll be like when I'm gone, my heart will be choked with sorrow, longing for you even though I'll be at the bottom of the river, in the ground or on the medical examiners table. Speaking of the table, did we ever think what it must be like for the people that have to lay on that table when they're dead, being sliced open with a scalpel, their organs being examined to see what killed them? I'm thinking of it now. It's freezing and I'm cold allover, my chest with a red line of blood where I was cut open to be examined… But that sounds ridiculous…
One good thing about writing this is that I can say whatever I want and I won't have to feel stupid about saying it later…
But one thing that I won't regret you reading in this letter is this:
I love you Alex.
I always have and I always will. I just never admitted it because I thought that it would ruin our working relationship – and I wasn't sure if you felt the same way. I'm scared of rejection, always have been. Would you have rejected me Alex?'
No Bobby, I'd never reject you. I love you too! God, I loved you too…
More then you could ever know.
'Ok, now that all those things are over with I can tell you some not so important things. I need you to listen to these carefully, especially the first two. Ready?
In the package there's a key to my apartment. I want you to go over there whenever you can. If you move my couch you should see a trap door. Lift it up and there should be a metal box in there. I want you to take it out and open it. (The combination is 1-7-3-9) There's twenty thousand dollars in there. I need you to go to the place where my Mother lives. (You know where it is.) Go to the reception and ask for nurse Franco. He's a good guy and I need you to give the money to him. Say that it's for Mrs. Goren's expenses. Paid for by her son Bobby. He'll understand and pay for my Mother for as long as the need be.
Next, go to my lawyer, Mr. Adrian Bower of Bower, Bower and Kelly on 74th street. Tell him that Robert Goren is dead and that all the will needs to be executed. He will know what to do. You will probably get a call from him the day after you see him. I left you some things in my will…
Last of all I need you to know that I'm sorry for all the pain that I've caused you over the last few years. And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you how I felt until it was too late.
And don't worry, you'll get another letter from me soon…
Love, Bobby.'
I stand up clumsily from the toilet seat where I was sitting, leaning against the wall for balance I take a few deep breaths. I think that I'm sick or something. Oh Bobby, if you were still here you'd know exactly what was wrong with me. You knew everything. I miss you so much… And you've only been gone a couple of hours.
I can hear Deakins calling me from outside the ladies room. Heh, I knew that he wouldn't follow me in here. He woul - The main door squeaks open and I can hear footsteps echoing around near the basins, I guess that I was wrong about Deakins…
But I know that I'm wrong about how I've always felt for you Bobby… How could I be? I still love you. I need you to know that…
Even though you're gone…
-OoO-
How was that for my first L&O:CI fic that I've put up? I don't know… I think that it was a bit soppy at the end… If enough people like it I might do another chapter, even though I only intended this to be a one shot I've never been good at finishing my stories…
Oh well, you people can complain about it for me in the reviews. Hey! If people do flames I can roast marshmallows, and steak, and Marsbars™ (Don't say yuck until you try it! Melted Marsbars™ are good!)! Yummy! That works well for me because I'm hungry…
Well, R&R! Thanks.
Caitabee…
A.k.a. Caitlin,
A.k.a., Psycho person that is addicted to Law and Order (Regular, SVU and most of all CI!) and will die if she misses an episode…