His sleep was restless. He'd slept heavily for awhile, but then he began tossing and turning, groaning. She rose and stood beside him, watching his face, trying to decide if it was pain or dreams that were disturbing him. Finally deciding she didn't care, she leaned over and called his name. "Bobby? Hey, Bobby…"
He settled down, slowly opening his eyes and looking at her. He took a deep breath, wincing, and changed his position in the bed. Eyes searching the room, he gradually remembered where he was, and why he was there. Damn. It hadn't been a nightmare. And he had not imagined his partner apologizing for letting him down, when she had done no such thing. "Bobby? Are you in pain?"
Pain? Sure…a lot of pain…but not all of it was physical. "Damn it, Eames. You didn't let me down."
She frowned at him. "What…?"
He reached toward her, gently taking her hand in his. "You did not let me down. You had no choice in getting shot. I…" He looked away. He had no words for what he felt, and he had no idea what the right thing to say was.
He released her hand and pressed his head back against the pillow. She wasn't sure what to say, either. So she rested her hand on his chest, gently. She looked at his face, still pale, but better. With her other hand, she touched his cheek, running her fingers down to his chin. He just watched her face, uncertain. Taking her hand from his chest she raised it to his other cheek, framing his face with both hands. Very gently, she kissed him, lingering longer than she had intended but not regretting a second of it. "Thank you, Bobby," she said as she pulled back, letting her hands fall from his face.
He was thoroughly confused now, every sense in his body reeling. "For what?" he managed.
She lightly stroked his hand, but she would not look at him. "For saving my life. For being there when I needed you, whether I knew it or not. For always being there when I need you." Her voice became even softer as she became less certain she would not cry. "For not leaving me." When he reached over, lifting her chin with his fingers so he could see her face, tears were streaming from her eyes. "For not dying," she managed.
That was it. He pulled her into his arms and she cried. He held her, gently stroking her hair, not saying a word. He had no idea what to say. But he did feel that a great weight had been lifted from his soul. He kissed her head. Everything would be ok. They would be ok.