1A/N: Bobby/Alex/Deakins/Carver aren't mine :-( ...but thanks for sharing, Mr. Wolf. Rizzo and Kowalski belong to me.

Thanks, again, to the readers and reviewers. This is the next-to-last chapter in the longest, saddest 72 hours of Bobby's life. I don't why I enjoy torturing him with such angst – I just DO.

Grieving

Deakins was harried. His meeting with the brass had lasted an hour longer than it should have and he, once again, had lost another hour of valuable time to the traffic snarls.

He rushed and just made the elevator as the doors began closing. He had mixed feelings about rushing to see Bobby; he wasn't looking forward to the ire he knew he'd be facing. He knew he should have talked to Bobby sooner; kept him abreast of things, but for the past two days he had been overwhelmed with obligations and duties – he hadn't even permitted himself the "luxury" of indulging in his own grief.

The elevator seemed to be making stops at almost every floor on his way up to the 8th. "Geez, even this ride is taking too long" he complained to himself.

Finally reaching the 8th floor, the doors opened and the Captain made his way to Dr. Rizzo's office. He was just about to knock, when the door opened.

"Captain Deakins, I was just on my way to the ward."

"Hi, Doctor. Can I see Bobby?"

"Sure, come with me," he said, as the two men headed down the hall.

"How's is doing," Deakins asked.

"He's doing well. I think I'd better warn you, though, when I spoke with Bobby this morning, he was pretty upset – – I mean, finding out on TV – – I can't say I blame him, but, we talked a bit and he was calm enough to sleep."

Deakins looked at Rizzo, confused. "You said you spoke this morning, then he was able to sleep?"

Rizzo explained, "He was up at least since 2:00 a.m. When I made my morning rounds at 7, I found him sleeping in a chair at the table. I checked his chart and spoke with the night duty nurse. She said he asked for a pen and paper at around 2 in the morning and was up, probably most of the night. He, um, he was working on the eulogy for his partner."

Deakins sighed, "It's my fault. I should've gotten here last night."

Rizzo looked at him sympathetically. "It's not your fault. I'm sure that the past couple of days have been a whirlwind; you have a lot of responsibilities; you've probably barely had time to breathe, much less grieve."

Deakins looked somberly at the doctor and nodded, rubbing his hand through his hair.

The doctor continued, "If Bobby says anything...well, you know...it's just the grief talking. Don't hold it against him. He needs you, whether he's willing to admit it, or not."

Deakins gave the doctor a half smile. Rizzo hadn't quite convinced him, but he appreciated the effort.

They reached Bobby's door and Rizzo entered, followed by the Captain.

Bobby, in the meantime, had finished his writing and was re-reading his notes, fine tuning a word here and there, but mainly trying to innoculate himself from the heart-wrenching pain of it all. He hoped that by repeating the words often enough, they would become a matter of route; that he would become immune to the sadness that welled up inside him every time he mentioned Alex's name. His plan wasn't working.

When Bobby heard the door open, he was expecting to see Lewis, bearing their dinner. He, instead, saw Dr. Rizzo with Captain Deakins in tow. Bobby felt a sudden flash of anger upon seeing his Captain, but, just as suddenly, the memory of Dr. Rizzo's words of earlier that morning came rushing back.

The Doctor had been observing Bobby from the second he entered the room. The two men's eyes connected for a split second. From the facial expressions he had just observed, Rizzo surmised the thought process that had just gone through Bobby's head. The Doctor turned towards Deakins and gave him a small smile. "I'll leave you two alone."

Deakins looked uncomfortable, unsure whether to approach Bobby, so he remained standing by the door. Bobby remained in his chair, extending his arm, gesturing towards to the empty chair across the table from him; "S-sit down, Captain."

The Captain sat, leaning forward, folded hands placed on the table. "Look, Bobby, I'm...I'm sorry..."

Bobby nodded, but remained silent, leaning forward and resting his stubbly cheek in the palm of his hand."

"I know it's no excuse, but it's just been crazy – with the arrest and the media circus. I'm sorry."

Bobby straightened himself in his chair and assumed a position much like Deakins' – hands folded, leaning forward on the table. "I dropped the ball, too – on my friend, Lewis – – he found out about Alex on TV. I felt terrible for him. He, um, he forgave me, though. He understood I was dealing with my own...things. He's a good friend."

Deakins sat quietly. He wasn't quite sure about what had just happened. Had Bobby just accepted his apology, as simply as that? No blow up? No berating? He wondered to himself if Bobby might still be under the influence of some type of sedative. He rubbed his face and let out a sigh. "I never meant to slight you, Bobby...I would never intentionally..."

Bobby raised his hand, cutting Deakins short. "It's all right, Captain. I know you wouldn't. You've always been there for us – always backed us up. I know losing her is hard for you, too."

Deakins breathed a sigh of relief. He had prepared himself for the storm, but instead got the calm. The Captain never was one to allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. The thought kept nagging him and he silently thought, "Does he really forgive me, of is he just too tired for an argument?" Then Bobby's voice snapped him back from his thoughts.

"So, how did it play out?"

Deakins shook he head, "A lucky break and some good old-fashioned Police work." The Captain continued, relaying to Bobby the whole story – how the Detectives meeting the snitch at The Lido overheard the phone call – right up through the interrogation and arrest of Randazzo. Bobby listened intently.

"So, you handled the interrogation?"

Deakins nodded, "Me and Kowalski. Bill and I go back to the Academy," he said, smiling.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm in here."

Deakins understood the meaning. "I'm not gonna' lie to ya', Bobby; I would've liked nothing better than to beat the crap outta' the guy, but there was no way in hell we were gonna' give him any ammunition for some 'police brutality' claim or some other BS. We went strictly by the book."

Bobby nodded in agreement, still inwardly wishing he'd have had 5 minutes alone in a room with Randazzo. "So, th-the detectives from the Task Force that got the lead – I'd like to talk to them when I get outta' here – to thank them."

Deakins shrugged his shoulders, "I didn't even get their names. I'll check back with Kowalski – he can let me know."

Bobby heard the door open again and looked up, smiling. Deakins, whose back was to the door, turned to find Dr. Rizzo and Lewis, with his arms full of their take-out dinner.

Deakins stood, "Well, I guess I'll get going."

Bobby stood, almost too quickly blurting out, "No, why don't you stay?" Lewis chimed in, "Yeah, stay Cap, there's plenty!"

Bobby didn't wait for an answer. He crossed the room and pulled the spare chair to the table, making room for the three of them to sit. Deakins smiled as he removed his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

"You want some, Doc?" Lewis offered.

Rizzo smiled, "No, thanks. You guys go ahead. I think I'll save my appetite," he said with a wink towards Lewis. "They're serving the mystery meatloaf in the cafeteria today," he joked, as he left the room.

Lewis laughed, "Your doctor's a cool guy, Bobby."

The three men sat at the table; Lewis proudly unveiling this nights dinner selection: a large pepperoni and onion pizza from Rays...Bobby wondered if he knew that that was Alex's favorite...and an order of eggplant parmigiana with garlic bread and a side salad.

As Bobby and Deakins passed around the styrofoam plates and plastic utensils, Lewis unscrewed the twist-off caps from the bottles of Stewart's Root Beer. Lewis raised his bottle, with Bobby and the Captain following his lead. "To friends!" he toasted, sharing a smile with Bobby.

The three clanked their bottles together and drank; Lewis and Bobby chugging, while Deakins tasted, did a double-take of his bottle, and resumed drinking.

Lewis and Bobby laughed, while Deakins shot them a sideways glance. Bobby reached for a slice of pizza, as he explained to the Captain, "That's how Lewis and I always got drunk at the high school football games," he laughed. The dark brown bottles were the perfect disguise for the frothy ale.

They sat drinking and telling stories – mostly about high school hi-jinx and muscle cars – the way guys normally do. It was the happiest and most relaxed that Deakins had been in a while. It meant a lot to him that Bobby asked him to stay. It meant a lot to Bobby that he did.

It was going on 7 p.m. Bobby noticed as Deakins checked his watch. "I'd better get going – I didn't tell my wife I would be late."

"You can't go yet!" Lewis objected. "We didn't have dessert."

"Will your wife be angry if you stay a while longer?" Bobby asked.

Lewis, who had been clearing the mess from the table, reappeared carrying a box from Ferrara's. "Hey, Bobby, why don't you ring for that cute nurse and get us some coffee to go with these," he said, as he lifted the lid, tempting them with the delicious, freshly-baked Italian pastries.

"It'd be pretty hard to pass those up," Deakins laughed, as he took out his cell phone and began dialing home.

Bobby felt a pang of envy as he watched the Captain. He hated himself for thinking it, but he couldn't stop the thought from crossing his mind, "At least he has somebody to call."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Another hour had flown by. The guys were stuffed. Lewis asked the time and, finding out it was 8 o'clock, announced, "I gotta' fly, Bobby. I told Richie I'd meet him for a few games of pool." Lewis rose from the table and headed for the door.

Bobby had gotten up and walked with him. "Tell him I said hi."

The two friends hugged, as Lewis said, "That's all I'll tell him."

"Thanks."

Lewis waved a hand at Deakins, "G'night, Cap!"

"G'night Lewis. Thanks for dinner."

Deakins stood and put on his jacket. "I guess I should be going, too." He read the look on Bobby's face: he knew he wanted "out" too. The Captain smiled, "Don't worry, you're getting sprung tomorrow. I'll come and give ya' a lift home."

Bobby shook his head, "You don't have to do that, Captain; I can grab a cab."

Deakins wouldn't hear of it, "You stay put. I'll be here."

"Thanks," Bobby said, as they hugged good-bye.

"Try to get some sleep. I heard you were up all night and, umm, the next few days are gonna' be rough."

"I'll try," Bobby said, nodding. "Thanks, Captain."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bobby was laying on the bed watching TV when the door opened and Dr. Rizzo entered. "Hi, Bobby."

Bobby sat up.

"I just wanted to stop in before I head home. I spoke with Captain Deakins on his way out tonight. He's gonna' be here first thing in the morning to pick you up."

Bobby's expression brightened, but he answered, "That's not 72 hours."

Rizzo smiled, "I know...technically, it's not. Your Captain can be very convincing."

Bobby laughed. He wondered what Deakins had said to the Doctor. Rizzo sat next to Bobby on the edge of the bed, "Can I talk with you for a minute?" he asked.

"Sure."

Rizzo turned his head to look at Bobby, "I want you to come back and see me."

Bobby's eyebrows furrowed. Rizzo knew the expression – he was about to get an argument, so before Bobby could speak, he said, "Just to talk – I think it would be good for you, Bobby."

Bobby's voice was low, "I'll think about it."

The Doctor stood, "Okay, fair enough. I'll see you in the morning." Rizzo left and Bobby fell back on the bed with a groaning stretch, delighting in the thought of his approaching freedom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Morning hadn't come fast enough. Bobby was up, showered, shaved and dressed by 7:30. He sat watching Good Day New York and the clock, while eating a left over pastry. It was almost 8:30 when the door opened.

Rizzo smiled, "Looks like you're ready."

Bobby shot up and grabbed his bag. The Doctor stepped aside to let him through the doorway.

Rizzo put a hand on Bobby's shoulder as they walked out of the ward, down the hall. "Captain Deakins is waiting for you my office."

Deakins had been reading some of the plaques on the wall and turned, smiling, when Bobby and the Doctor entered the room.

The Doctor stepped behind his desk, "Well, gentlemen, I just need Bobby to sign this form and you can be on your way."

"What's this?" Bobby asked.

"It's just a discharge form...and a receipt for your personal belongings. Rizzo handed Bobby a bag from his credenza. "This is your shoes, portfolio and keys – you already have your wallet – your suit, shirt and tie are on a hanger behind the door."

Bobby looked at Rizzo, waiting for him to finish his accounting of items. He saw the Doctor's eyes glance towards the Captain's, and Deakins spoke up. "I took your badge and holster last night, Bobby."

Bobby shot him a "how dare you!" look, which Deakins read correctly. His nostrils flared, "That's my off-duty piece!"

Deakins spoke calmly, "Relax, Bobby. They're in your locker back at the office."

Bobby's head oscillated: Deakins-Rizzo-Deakins. He nodded a soft, "okay," wondering just how much the two had talked about him and what was said. He took the pen from his shirt and signed the form, then looked at the pen. "I almost forgot – – your pen," he said, handing it over the desk towards Rizzo.

Rizzo shook his head and patted the pocket of his lab coat. "I've got mine...that's yours," he smiled.

Bobby paused, embarrassed at the thought of accepting the expensive gift from the doctor. "Th-thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Captain," he said, extending his hand to shake. Deakins smiled and held his grip firmly, "Thank you, Doctor – for everything."

Rizzo rounded his desk. "Bobby," he extended his hand once again, "You take good care of yourself."

Bobby looked him in the eyes and nodded, "I will. Thank you for everything." Their eyes and hands locked for several seconds. In his peripheral vision, Bobby saw Deakins walk to the door to retrieve his suit from the hook on the back. He lowered his voice to less than a whisper, "I'll give you a call next week."

The Doctor smiled, answering quietly, "I'm glad."

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The brightness of the morning forced Bobby to squint, but the warmth and the air felt good on his skin. It felt good to be outside: to hear the sounds of the city, the morning rush that he was so used to being a part of. They reached the parking lot and Bobby recognized the black SUV. They loaded his belongings and Deakins turned to him, "You wanna' drive?" Bobby shook his head, "No." They hopped in; as Deakins made their way out of the parking lot, Bobby pressed the overhead storage compartment and retrieved his sunglasses.

He observed as much as his eyes and ears could let him take in. He loved people-watching, and the thought immediately struck him how isolated he had felt for the past couple of days. He lowered the window even further, enjoying the breeze and the changing smells that wafted through the air from block to block as they drove past the various coffee houses, bakeries and diners.

Deakins kept glancing at his passenger, wondering what Bobby was thinking. He didn't want to press. He knew Bobby well enough to know that if he had something to say, he would say it, so Deakins continued driving, leaving Bobby to his thoughts. As they drew closer to Bobby's apartment, Deakins decided he'd better take the opportunity to tell Bobby, "The wake is today and tomorrow, 2 to 4 and 7 to 9 at Vorhees' – there's a pamphlet in the glove compartment with directions. The funeral is at 10 o'clock Saturday, at St. Patrick's."

Bobby remained silent.

Deakins was lucky enough to find a parking spot not too far from Bobby's apartment building. He shut off the engine and turned to Bobby, "Lemme' give you a hand carrying your stuff – then I'll grab a cab back to the office."

"You don't have to do that, Captain."

"It's okay. You keep the truck," he said, as he handed him the keys.

They walked to the front of his building. Bobby took the hanger and the bag that Deakins had been carrying. "I can manage from here."

Deakins nodded. "Okay, I'll umm, I'll probably see ya' tonight, then."

"Thanks, Captain."

Bobby reached his front door, juggling the items as he fumbled for the keys in his pocket. Once inside, he quickly deposited the items on the closest chair and surveyed his apartment. He wondered to himself, "How can it feel so good and so bad to be home?" He went to the fridge. There was nothing good. He hadn't been home to buy, cook or eat anything in almost two weeks. Any leftovers he did have were spoiled by now and had to be thrown away.

He decided that since he needed to go back downstairs to check his mailbox, that he would grab something quick to eat at the coffee shop down the block.

Bobby entered the store and, although it was somewhat later than the usual time he stopped in for breakfast, some of the "regulars" were still there. He looked around, noticing some of the familiar faces who sat there daily, with their coffee and muffins, doing the crossword puzzle in The Times. He thought to himself, "All their lives have gone on as normal...and mine..."

He didn't get to finish his thought, as the girl behind the counter cheerfully greeted him, "Hey, where 've you been?"

Bobby's voice was low; he tried to manage a smile, "I was...away for while."

Her nosiness was annoying him. He looked at her without a reply. She pointed towards him, still smiling, "No suit and tie today," she said, stating her observation.

The other girl behind the counter called, "Can I help the next person?" But, the nosey girl turned to her and said, "Don't worry, Traci, I've got this one." She smiled at Bobby, "Regular coffee, poppy seed bagel with cream cheese and a large double mocha with a raspberry Danish, right?

Bobby looked down and had to swallow hard to get the lump from his throat before he could answer, "No, just the regular coffee and the bagel."

The girl turned to make the order. Bobby stood before the counter, once again getting lost in thought. "How could something so simple, so insignificant hurt so much? ...make me feel so...alone?"

Suddenly, he wasn't very hungry. He put his sunglasses back on to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. He felt conspicuous – – and ridiculous that he couldn't stop these self-pitying thoughts and the emotions they brought to the surface. He reached into his pocket, laid $6.00 on the counter and walked out of the shop, hearing the bewildered clerk yell after him, "Sir! Your food!"

Bobby made his way back to his apartment as quickly as he could; the lump in his throat growing, the tears now running down his cheeks. He ran to the sink as the waves of nausea overtook him – the dry heaving racking his body. He splashed cold water over his face and the back of his neck and walked to his bedroom while kicking off his shoes. He laid on the bed and began thinking about the wake he would have to attend later that afternoon – facing it was going to make it real – a reality he still wasn't ready for. He began thinking, repeating in his mind, "I've gotta' get hold of myself; I have to calm down...pull myself together...I can't –won't – cause another scene..." He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths.

He reached for his wallet and opened it, looking at the picture of Alex. She was never more than a phone call away – even if that call was at 3:00 a.m., she was always there for Bobby – until now. He wondered how his heart could be so full of love for her, yet feel so empty. But then realized it was because she was no longer there to love him back. He was truly alone. He clutched the photo to his aching chest as the relentless sobbing once again overtook him.

END. Chpt. 11