A/N: A short chapter, but it's just set up for the big event, anyway

Alex looked around at the drab gray prison walls surrounding her and suppressed a shudder at the thought of how cold that stone must be.

"Alexandra?"

She blinked, trying to clear her thoughts, and focused her eyes back on her captain, who had just spoken her name and was now watching her with obvious concern. "Alex," he said again, "are you listening to me?"

He was afraid for her, both physically and mentally, she knew. Well good, she decided, that makes three of us. Out of Deakins, Goren, and herself, Alex was pretty sure she was taking the imminent confrontation with Steven Brewer the most in stride, at least on the surface. For the past three days, Alex had managed to be very convincing to other people when she assured them that Brewer posed no physical threat to her, and she had dealt with the psychological threat. Purposely avoiding letting her family hear what she was going to do, she'd managed to convince almost everyone else with her show of confidence, but the ones who mattered most refused to believe her pat explanations.

Deakins had reverted to treating her the same way he had during the first weeks of her recovery. As if he were afraid he might break her, he had refused to let her perform any tasks he considered too dangerous - tasks which ranged from working on a cop-killer case to carrying a heavy stack of files across the room. She'd tolerated it this time, knowing that it made him feel better and, one way or another, it would be over in a few more days.

Bobby, on the other hand, had hardly spoken to her in the days since Deakins's phone call, except to try to talk her out of doing the interview. He'd tried reason - there are better interrogators than you, and obviously Brewer's itching to tell someone; why believe that you're really the only one he'll speak to? - cajolery - Alex, honey, please! You don't have to do this, and no one's going to think less of you if you refuse! - and finally, an icy cold, no-holds-barred act that told her he was beginning to understand how set on this course of action she was. The last was what hurt the most, as he had known it would:

You think we're going to be able to help you this time, Eames? he'd hissed only a few minutes ago. You think he's not going to be able to smell your fear when you sit down across from him? When she'd just continued to look at him stonily, he'd grabbed her shoulders and bent down until his face was only an inch from hers. Damn it, Alex, you're not ready for something like this! All he wants is to play with you, and you're going to come out of there wishing you'd never gone in!

She hadn't been able to vocalize her answer to that, but she thought the glare she'd given him had communicated her feelings well enough. She wasn't going to put her own irrational fears above the very rational pain and terror the parents of Brewer's tenth victim must be feeling; that would be about as far from "Protect and Serve" as she could get, and she simply refused to be that selfish.

And if she came out of the room with a few more scars than she'd gone in with, she'd know it was because she'd tried everything she could to help those people. And maybe then she'd be able to sleep at night.

A hand cupped her cheek and Bobby's voice said her name, startling her out of her memories. She flinched at the contact, then ground her teeth in annoyance at her reaction. "What?" she finally managed to snap at him.

"Come here." Rather than being sharp, as it had been for most of the past few days, his voice now was gentle, and she didn't resist as he put a hand between her shoulder blades and led her to the other side of the room.

When he was careful to put his own back to the wall, leaving her a clear escape route, she knew she was about to hear his last-ditch effort to convince her not to go in. "Bobby," she said before he could get the words out, "you can't talk me out of this, ok? It's . . . I have to do it."

"I know," he said quietly, surprising her with his words even as he took her hand and pulled her a little closer to him. "You're going to do this no matter what any of us say . . . I realize that. But if you're going to do it," he added, "neither of us is going into that room until I clear up the . . . the lies I've told you."

"You don't have to . . . I mean I know you've just been trying to . . ."

"Just listen, ok?"

She paused for a second, then nodded.

"I've been saying everything I can think of to keep you from doing this. I was - am - desperate, and I lied. A lot. You're good, Alex. You know it and I know it, no matter what I pretended to think, ok? If he's got the information, you're going to get it out of him."

"Bobby -"

"Quiet," he commanded, holding up a hand to stop her protest. "And I understand why you think you need to do this. I don't like it, and I don't want to understand it, but . . . I do." He paused to lower his hand and swallow nervously. "And . . . and the biggest thing . . . I think you're ready for him. I'm terrified that I'm wrong, but that really is what I think."

"Look, Bobby -"

"I don't know how much my vote of confidence even matters to you anymore, but I just had to tell you that."

She stared at him for a few seconds, letting his words filter through her brain and disperse through her body, and suddenly her heart wasn't pounding quite so hard. Wanting to show him just how much his vote did matter to her, she slid her arms around his waist and rested her head over his heart. His galloping heartbeat told her that he was as apprehensive over this interview as she was, but as he responded to her hug by putting his arms around her and resting his cheek on top of her head, she thought his pulse got a little slower, too.

They stood there, each trying to infuse the other with their strength, until the sound of a throat clearing made them jump apart.

They expected to find a censorious look on their captain's face, but instead, he had his head pointedly turned away from them. "If that helps you guys, then I haven't seen anything," he announced before slowly turning back to face them. "And I'm sorry to break it up. But . . . it's time. Brewer just got moved into the interview room."

Alex swallowed.

Next to her, Bobby reached out and gave her hand a quick, hard squeeze before dropping it again. "Ready?"

Concentrating hard on keeping her breathing even and her hands steady, she nodded.