Deviation from the Average
By Javawolf
Author's Note: "I'm not quite dead." Ah, I'm so terribly and sincerely sorry that I took so dreadfully long to update. I'm struggling with the college application process and free moments are scarce. That, and yours truly, genius that she is, has started another story, that will take another chunk of time out of my savings. All I can do is thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being so patient.
And now for some plot, eh?
"This is very serious, Detective. I have to agree with the Captain, you need at the very least, a simple, psychological evaluation. Perhaps one of our own psychiatrists could assist us in this situation."
Still sitting in Deakin's office, twenty minutes after Grim had stormed out of the building in a huff, the fantastic four sat absorbed in conversation. The topic: Has Goren gone off his rocker? And: If so, what do we do about it? A most awkward situation for Bobby to be in, you can imagine.
"Oh, not one of ours..." Deakins replied to Carver's suggestion. "They cower before the Great Detective Goren." He shifted in his leather chair as he chuckled softly to himself. "I don't think they like having the tables turned on them, it makes them nervous for someone to know more about them than they do."
"Same goes for pretty much everyone." Alex murmured. Deakins shrugged and all three of them turned their gazes on Bobby, who looked from one to another in sequence.
"Sorry." He mumbled pathetically, lowering his gaze to the gray carpet.
"Oh, Bobby, we're not accusing you!" Alex couldn't help but laugh. "You're good at what you do and we're all lucky to have you. I'm just saying, you can be very–" She trailed off, suddenly looking distressed.
"Very what?" Bobby urged her.
"Nothing. Forget it." Alex snapped.
Sensing that this was the perfect time for a subject change, Deakins cleared his throat.
"The point, Goren, being that you're obviously distressed, and there are people who can assist you. It makes absolutely no sense to ignore that you need help, simply on pride." Despite the tender subject, Deakins laughed. "When I say 'help,' I don't mean to say 'You're a wacko, you need help.'"
"I know what you meant." Bobby grumbled. "I'm choosing to ignore you."
"Oh, that's mature." Alex accused, giving Bobby a pointed look. He merely glared at her through his fingers, as he'd just buried his head in his hands. "Come on, well just go to the hospital, and get an ice cream on the way." Alex insisted, rising from her chair with something resembling a smile. Bobby let his breath out in a rush.
"I'm not a child." He snapped. Alex lowered herself slowly back into her chair, hurt easily readable on her face. Her partner, for quite possibly the only time in his career, didn't notice at all; mumbling nonsense things such as, "... Ice cream... Damn bagpipes... Not a baby..."
It was at this moment that Deakins made a fast decision to take matters into his own hands.
"Robert Goren," He said in a stern voice that caused Bobby to jump slightly in his chair, and then stand in salute. Deakins rolled his eyes, but continued speaking. "You are, as of right now, released from your duties as Detective on my floor." Goren simply stared at him with a vacant look, so Deakins tried again.
"You're fired, Goren."
That caused a reaction. As Deakins had expected, Bobby blinked in surprise and fell back into his chair.
Carver watched with a look of intrigued horror.
Fired? He fired him? He thought to himself. Deakins wore on his face a smug look of triumph, that didn't go unnoticed by the Assistant District Attorney. After a short minute spent watching Bobby try to figure out what just happened, Deakins spoke again.
"Think of it as being grounded." He almost smiled, Carver couldn't help but notice. The realization dawned on him that Deakins was playing the father figure in order to get Goren psychological help. It was as brilliant as it was funny, and even the ADA found himself suppressing a snicker. Poor Alex was still wearing a blank look of disbelief.
"Goren," Deakins continued. "All you have to do for me to re-instate you is go with Detective Eames," Alex blinked. "And have yourself checked out." He finished.
Bobby looked at first like he wanted to argue, but after his gaze settled on something invisible on the opposite side of the room he was quick to agree.
"Fine, fine." He stammered, tearing his eyes away from the hallucination. He turned to Alex. "You mentioned something involving ice cream?"
"Alexandra Eames?"
"Yes. I'm her–that's she–er–I'm me... Alex Eames." She stammered, hardly able to speak through her numb lips. Bobby had been back there with the doctor for over an hour and a half, and poor Alex had had little to do besides worry.
"I'm Dr. Ramonoff." The man said offering his hand in greeting. "You brought Robert in this morning?"
"Yes, yes! What's wrong with him?" Alex snapped, ignoring Dr. Ramonoff's friendly gesture and staring up at him with a pleading look. The doctor sighed.
"I don't know." He admitted with a hopeless shrug. Alex blinked.
"You don't–what exactly the hell does that mean? You don't know? Why don't you know?"
"Please, there are a number of things you need to... Perhaps this is a matter that should be addressed in my office, rather than out here." He motioned for Alex to look around the waiting room, and she did, spotting many gazes that flirted guiltily away.
Alexstiffly followed Dr. Ramonoff to his office, where she was instructed to sit in a chair in front of his desk. The office was large and bleak, and Alex silently wondered why doctors always had boring offices. Dr. Ramonoff sat down at his desk and studied the woman before him.
"Spill already." Alex spat. The doctor was taken aback.
"Oh... Very well. As you may know, Robert has a pre-deposition for schizophrenia."
"Yes, his mom."
"Right. But this sudden onset–it's not characteristic of most schizophrenic patients. While his symptoms fit almost perfectly with the profile of the disorganized schizophrenic, the rate at which his symptoms are worsening is–extremely rare."
"What does that mean?" Alex narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Well, we don't know yet. It could mean a number of things. We're suspecting this is either an acute case; prone to sudden onset, or one of many similar psychological disorders."
"Like what?" Alex interrupted. "Please, just tell me."
"Well, possible conditions include schizophreniform disorder, schizoaffective disorder, and brief psychotic disorder. Right now, all are as likely as the next."
"What is your personal opinion?" Alex begged. Dr. Ramonoff smiled gently.
"I believe he may be suffering from a rare form of schizophrenia. An acute case of disorganized, type I, schizophrenia. In short, a sudden psychotic break induced by an overwhelming stressor. The disorder is episodic in nature and could cause psychological distress at any time. Symptoms include bizarre visual and auditory hallucinations, disorganization of thought and personality, incongruent emotions; such as laughing when hearing bad news, etc."
Alex leaned back into her chair. Dr. Ramonoff continued somberly.
"I need to know when this all started. Can you remember when Robert first started behaving strangely?"
Alex swallowed hard. "Uh... Last week, I guess. He, uh... Broke down. He didn't mean to but, he shot me–"
"He shot you?" Dr. Ramonoff exclaimed, suddenly distressed. "He's violent?"
"No. He, he must have been hallucinating. He tried to shoot the wall, but another officer grabbed him–just to try and calm him down, but he lost his aim... And I was in the way."
"I'm sorry. You must have been frightened."
"I must've...? Doctor, I'm terrified."
"I understand. And I hate to press such a tender wound but this case wouldn't have come on that quickly. Robert would've been acting strangely at least two weeks before he began hallucinating. Try to remember–any thought disorder at all. For example, vague, unspecified speech, repeated and unnecessary references to irrelevant details, or abrupt pauses in the middle of a sentence."
"That describes the Goren I've always known. He's always had those–symptoms–as far as I know."
"Not likely... It's possible that his mannerisms simply prevented his symptoms from being noticed."
"Or maybe he just doesn't have schizophrenia." Alex suggested, her eyes suddenly filling with hope. Dr. Ramonoff sighed.
"Like I said, it's uncertain. Besides the subject of diagnoses, there's treatment. I can't allow Robert to leave without at least a prescription for anti-psychotics; especially after hearing about this shooting."
"I told you, it was an accident!" Alex argued. She couldn't leave Bobby here, she'd promised him ice cream...
"I'm sorry, it isn't safe."
"Fine then, write this prescription and we'll be out of your hair."
"It isn't that simple." Dr Ramonoff insisted with waning patience. "The medication could have many undesirable side-effects, and without a positive diagnoses I just don't feel comfortable–"
"You're toying with me!" Alex shouted suddenly, rising from her chair and glaring down at the doctor, who's calm expression was very quickly getting on her nerves. "You just told me not five minutes ago that you personally believed he had schizophrenia, but now you're saying you don't know–so you can't give him any medicine? What sort of nonsense bullshit is that? If Bobby's sick, give him his medication; if he's not, let me take him home!"
"What is your interest here? Are you family?"
"I'm–" Alex was dumbstruck. "I'm his fiancé." What? Alex mentally slapped herself.
"Really?" Dr. Ramonoff raised his eyebrows.
"Uh-huh." God, if Bobby heard about this he'd never let her live it down. "We've set a date in August and I'd like him to be there. Preferably crazy-free."
"I see. But you must understand... The side effects–"
"Let me take him home. Please."
Dr Ramonoff let his breath out and rose from his desk, offering Alex his hand. "Very well."
This time Alex took the man's hand and shook it vigorously. "Thank you. Oh, thank you so much."
He smiled warmly, hiding his concern. Hesitantly he signed his name on the prescription. "Please, tell me you understand the consequences. I could lose my job."
"I understand. You have my consent, absolutely. Can I see him now?" Alex said in a rush.
"Yes. Please go back to the waiting room, and I'll bring him out."
"Thanks." Alex sighed relieved. He was going to get better. Everything was going to be fine.
tbc
Not over. Oh, no. More to come. Please review.