They found him sitting on the steps of the church, his head in his hands. Eames sat on one side of him, Deakins on the other. He looked up, first at his captain, then at his partner. He sighed. "The body…out here…the one Rodney dropped…It fits the pattern. Male Caucasian, thirties…The eighth Commandment…You shall not bear false witness…don't lie. He was strangled and his tongue was removed…like the second victim. If you…offend with your words…"
Eames nodded. "You remove the source of the offense. Your tongue gets cut out."
Goren nodded. He rested his head on his hand again. Deakins asked, "Are you ok, Bobby?"
He nodded. "Just very tired."
"You need to go to the hospital to get treated." He looked at Eames, who nodded. "Take him to the hospital, then both of you go home and get some rest. I'll deal with IAB for now. Where's your gun, Bobby?"
"Alex has it."
She handed it to the captain, along with the names and badge numbers of the two patrolmen. "These are the two officers who were also involved in the shooting."
"Go, now," Deakins said. "And call me later. Bobby, you know you'll have to see psych before I can put you back on duty."
Goren nodded. The captain headed back to the courtyard. Eames watched her partner. "You ready?"
"Whenever you are."
They headed down the steps toward the car. She reached out to steady him when she thought he would falter, and he looked at her with a tired, but reassuring smile. "We'll get you checked out and get you home."
"Sounds like a plan."
She watched him walk around the car and get in before she slid behind the wheel. He didn't say anything as she started the car and pulled away from the curb. "Talk to me, Goren."
He looked at her. "About what?"
"About what you're feeling."
"Right now, I just feel tired."
"The head injury?"
"That's probably part of it."
"All right…we'll talk about it later, ok?"
He waved his hand. "Sure, Eames. Whatever you want."
He turned to look out the window. By the time they got to the hospital, he was sleeping.
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Four hours, two x-rays and fifteen stitches later, they returned to the car. He had two broken ribs from the impact of Rodney's bullets through his vest and orders to take it easy. Eames turned out of the hospital lot onto the street and headed for his apartment. "Are you feeling any better?"
"No. I just want to go home and go to sleep."
She was quiet for a few blocks. "Bobby, about Rodney, and what happened…"
"Not now, Eames."
"Why not? We have to talk about it. You know that."
"I know," he said softly. "But not now."
He turned back to the window and didn't say anything more. She understood how he was when he got like this. He was shutting down and she would get nowhere with him, so she left him alone.