Deviation from the Average

By Javawolf

Author's Note: Tah-da! Got it up on time this week. (Applause, applause.) I had to cut it a little shorter than I would like, to get it up, but there will be another chapter very soon. I have other stories to keep up with, and I just can't spend a whole lot of time on each...it's annoying actually.

My Question: Does Bobby's older brother have a name? In BluePanther's "Deliverance" he was named Richard, but is that actually his name according to Canon? I haven't done a very good job following the story since it started, I only just got cable back.

TriStateCopFan: What do you mean, "...end of the show for VDO?" He not leaving, is he? Oh m-gosh! No! I thought he was going to be on every other week or so. Goren is the best character, Vincent can't just leave! ...I'm going to cry... Anyway, I'm happy to hear you're still enjoying the story. I love your reviews.

Adina-Anne: Carver? Oh. Well, thank you. I always thought Bobby was a more difficult character, you know? I suppose because he's so...er... Well, you know. Odd. But I can see how Carver would be hard. He's so mysterious! Well, let me know what you think of this next chapter!

One Police Plaza

Major Case Squad

Grim examined himself in the mirror of the men's restroom, slicking back his hair and checking his teeth. He was a lean man with very chiseled features. He had dark brown, wavy hair that he held back behind his ears, though the shorter cut bangs often fell in his face in light wisps. His hazel eyes seemed to glimmer at him through the glass at which he was staring so attentively. He was often teased by the other men around floor eleven about his obsession with appearance, but he told himself that was simply because they were jealous. Maybe that line of thinking was a little bit school-yard, but it was still most certainly true.

Today was the day. He'd woken up that morning, taken a shower and blow-dried his hair, performed his morning hygiene tasks, and grabbed a Frappuccino at Starbucks–all of this knowing that today was the day he would ask Detective Eames to dinner. His gut told him she would say yes, and his gut was rarely ever wrong.

Giving his reflection a flashy smile, Grim moved his attention from facial appearance to attire. Did his socks match? Did he make sure to put on the outfit he'd laid out the night before or did he accidently dress in his dirty clothes again? He fixed the collar of his pale pink button-down shirt and adjusted his coat so that it fell off his shoulders just at the crease. He looked good. He looked very good and he knew it.

Everyone in the office had learned since his arrival: looks can be deceiving.

Deakins practically jogged back into his office, feeling alive and awake and ready for the day. As soon as he'd shut the door behind him he fell against it and closed his eyes. He honestly didn't think himself ready to be ready. He felt like he should be miserable and exhausted, but he was alert and focused on the day that lay ahead of him. He wasn't entirely certain what to make of it.

He made toward his desk and was about to sit down when he saw something that made him stand straight back up again, looking out his office window to the floor in shock. Eames had come in for work, looking disheveled and sleepy. But it wasn't her appearance that sent Deakins bolting out of his office, very nearly taking the door of its hinges in his effort to open it as quickly as possible.

It was who she was with.

Bobby followed his partner willingly, but he refused to make eye contact with anyone as they made their way to the eleventh floor. Advancing on the elevator, they'd had several people approach them with questions. Bobby simply lowered his gaze and focused on the tile floor, watching his feet move him slowly closer to the elevator, and eventually into the safety of said elevator, (though he'd much rather had taken the stairs were he given a choice. He hated elevators.)

Walking across the floor he knew so well, Goren spotted several people staring at him, but his attention fell specifically on one person. He had just emerged from the restroom and seemed rooted to the spot. He wasn't simply staring, this man was gawking at him. It took effort, but Bobby managed to tear his eyes away, leaving the man behind as he and Eames approached Deakin's office.

Without warning, Deakins swung open his door and flew out at them, embracing Goren in a tight hug as though they hadn't seen each other in decades. Blinking dumbly, Goren patted him on the back.

"Hello, Captain..." Bobby said softly as they parted, rubbing his hands up and down his shirt awkwardly.

Deakins stepped back from him and looked him up and down.

"You look–awful..." He said in all honesty. And it was true.

Goren hadn't shaved and looked more stubbly than usual, his hair was curled and sticking up everywhere, and his shirt was buttoned out of sequence so that he had an extra button at the collar and an extra hole at the bottom. He being one to always dress well, with his tie perfect and his jacket buttoned precisely, this was unusual.

He didn't seem to have a response to Deakins' statement, and instead raised a hand to do something about his hair. His partner and captain watched him wrestle with it for a moment before giving up completely and letting his arms fall to his side.

"Goren, I–I don't know what–"

"I haven't told him. Have you?" Eames asked suddenly, looking pointedly at Deakins. Goren looked casually from one to the other and shrugged at their returning stares. "Maybe, we should speak somewhere more private." Eames finished.

"Yes, come in here." Deakins offered as he led to two of them into his office. Silently, the two detectives seated themselves before Deakins' desk and he took his own chair. They spent a good several seconds staring awkwardly at each other.

Deakins cleared his throat. "So, Goren. How are you feeling?"

Bobby shrugged in reply, unsure if he really felt like talking about recent events. Alex watched him for a moment before speaking up.

"This morning, I went to his apartment–"

"Eames..." Bobby pleaded.

"And I found him..." She glanced sideways at Deakins, and then at her hands. "...crying–on the floor. He wouldn't tell me what had happened. I saw broken dishes at the far end of the room, and–" Alex went on in detail, describing to Deakins the entire apartment as she had seen it at the point the woman stopped calling the shots and the detective took over the room.

Goren crossed his legs in his chair as placed his elbow on his armrest, bringing his hand to rest under his chin. He pretended not to be listening, but he was–and he was putting things together with every word. If she didn't see him...he was never there, he thought. Apparently he had thought a little too loudly, as know both his friends were giving him quizzical looks.

"Who wasn't there?" "Who didn't I see?" Alex and Deakins asked together. Bobby glanced from one to the other, and then shifted position nervously.

"No one...just–just thinking out loud." He stated simply.

"No, you weren't." Alex accused. "I know that look."

"Goren, you have to let us help you."

"I don't need help." He said, getting agitated now. "I'm fine, I just need some rest."

"Bobby..." Alex said softly as she reached out and took his hand in hers. He seemed surprised at the gesture but tightened his grip around her hand none the less, and looked at her with that look that she knew to mean, 'Thanks.'

"I–thought I saw someone. Some–someone I know. In my apartment."

"Who?" Deakins asked, dwelling for moment on Eames' very friendly gesture before turning to Goren for an answer. Goren, who seemed to have noticed him staring, quickly took his hand back and placed it firmly in his lap.

"That isn't important." He said, giving his captain direct eye contact.

"Goren..."

"Look, just tell me this much. Have I..." He trailed off, swatting at something by his right ear. And then again. He had a look of annoyance on his face that turned slowly to frustration and then fear. He stopped swatting and looked from Deakins to Alex, back and forth.

"You... you don't hear that?" He asked desperately. The two exchanged worried looks before shaking their heads.

"Goren... I–I have to suggest to you that you let Detective Eames drive you to a psychiatric hospital, where we can have someone look into–"

"That's not...I'm not crazy!" He didn't look or sound angry. In fact, he looked very much as though he were going to cry. "I don't have so much as a cold, I–" He paused and bit his lip. Alex feared he would cry, his emotional state was on the brink. "I don't want to go... go crazy..." He murmured.

"You're not going to go crazy." Deakins soothed. "We just need to see if there's anything we can do to help."

"By 'we' you mean a handful of strangers in sterilized, white suits who're going to poke and prod at me with high tech gadgets and shove pills down my throat."

Deakins sighed and leaned back into his chair helplessly, giving Eames a pleading look. She, in return, shrugged and turned to face the door as two more people entered the room. ADA Carver and Grim. Carver looked surprised to see Goren in the room, but never the less kept a cool exterior. Grim looked mortified.

"Oh, my apologies Detectives–Captain. I didn't realize you were in...conference."

"You're always welcome, Ron. We were just talking. Have a seat."

With a nod, he obliged, taking a chair to Goren's left. Grim stood by the door and continued to eye Goren with a mixture of fear and loathing. With a signal from Deakins, he left the room in a huff. And so the talk began.

He had intended to get Eames alone that afternoon... Grim felt himself tremble as he clenched his fists together. Goren had been back for 15 minutes and already had everyone else's attention. He took everything he wanted, and he didn't even know what he had.

He would pay for this.