Eames had slept for a little while on the couch, but it wasn't easy. She was still upset. He was safe, and he was sleeping. He'd have a hell of a hangover when he woke up. Most of her felt bad for him, but a small part of her couldn't help but feel he deserved it after putting her through what he did. Then she remembered that the pain that had fueled his rage was her fault.
It was pointless to try and sleep anymore, so she went for a walk. She liked this neighborhood, and walking in the pre-dawn morning helped her to feel better. Part of her partner's problem was his loneliness. Every date she had ever known him to go on had not panned out into more. Every girlfriend she knew about had not stayed around for long. Bobby was sweet and charming, but he walked along a path few could follow, listening to the beat of a very different drummer. That made him intense and, in the eyes of some, weird. But she understood her eccentric partner. She could hear the beat of his drummer. And in spite of everything, or maybe even because of some of it, she loved him. She could take anything he dished out. And when he was an ass, she knew exactly how to put him in his place. The only fear she felt about him was her fear of his worst enemy…himself. And she felt that she had the ability to be the buffer he needed in that war with himself. She had no intention of letting him down.
When she got back to the apartment building, she decided to take a quick trip home, to shower and change. She took her time, letting herself think long and hard about her partner and the demons that haunted him. Mostly she worried about how he was going to handle Father Sean's death once he was sober. She knew he had become very fond of the priest, and so had she. He had been a kind and gentle man who had not deserved his fate. She also worried, very much, that he would try to bear the weight of Father Sean's murder. She knew he was still struggling over Rodney's death. The only thing she regretted about that was that it had been his bullet that had killed that monster. But Bobby had a sensitive soul that bore his burdens heavily. The rationalization 'He deserved it' could find no place with him. She knew; she'd tried that reasoning with him.
It was lunchtime when she left her apartment, so she stopped for a bite to eat. She didn't expect him to be getting up any time soon. With all that had happened yesterday, she'd nearly forgotten about his injuries from the courtyard. He was putting a lot on an injured body.
She got back to the apartment during the early afternoon. She let herself in quietly and went down the hall to check on him. He was still sleeping heavily. She smiled. He needed that sleep. So she returned to the living room and looked through the books she had replaced on their shelves yesterday. Science, psychology, history…God bless him. She turned the TV on and looked for a movie.
She was in the kitchen preparing dinner when she heard the bedroom door open. She walked to stand by the table as he came into the living room. He stopped, surprised, and looked at her. "You're still here?"
"Of course I am. Where did you think I'd be?"
"Not here."
"How do you feel?"
"Don't ask."
She walked over to him and gently touched his chin to turn his face. She looked at the wound on the side of his head. It looked red and inflamed. Dried blood matted his hair and the side of his head by his ear. "That doesn't look good. Let me see your hand."
She examined it carefully. It was bruised, swollen and bloody. "Make a fist."
He did, but couldn't close it completely. She couldn't feel any odd deformities. There were several lacerations, probably from the mirror he'd shattered, but they had stopped bleeding long ago. She looked at his face. "How's your chest?"
He just shook his head. "Let's take a look," she said, reaching out and gently unbuttoned his shirt. She was still surprised by the extensive bruising, but she knew that happened when bullets hit those vests. They were life-saving but not injury-preventing. She ran her hands over his chest, but felt no indication he'd displaced his rib fractures. "Sit down, Bobby. I'll get you something to drink and some medicine, and then I'll feed you."
She started to turn away, but he grabbed her wrist. She looked at him. Quietly he said, "Don't try to pretend nothing happened."
"I'm not. We'll get to that. Now go sit down."
He studied her face for a moment before releasing her and doing as she asked, sitting on the couch. She went into the bedroom to recover the medicine bottle that had been knocked under the bed. She couldn't miss the hole in the wall by the bed, and the blood that colored its edges. The same for the one in the hallway. Well, those could be patched. Her brother had a lot of experience patching holes like that.
He was quietly watching her, and she wasn't surprised he was so subdued. He probably felt like crap and he was very uncertain about where he stood with her. But that was okay…let him worry for a little while. It was nothing compared to how she'd felt yesterday. She handed him a glass of water and two pills, then went back to the kitchen. She finished dinner…cubed chicken in gravy served over rice with some broccoli. She set the two plates on the table. "Come over here and eat," she said softly.
He didn't argue. He'd had enough of that. With some effort he got up from the couch and walked to the table. He had no idea what to think about her. She didn't seem mad at all, and she was still here, which had surprised the hell out of him. He had not expected to see her…possibly until he returned to the squad room. He'd hoped she would talk to him, let him apologize, but he was still shocked to see her here. Now she was…taking care of him. Well, at least she still liked him. He pushed his food around with his fork, still feeling nauseous. "Eat, Bobby. You'll feel better."
It wasn't food that was going to make him feel better, but he took a few bites. As his stomach settled, he took a few more. The medicine was beginning to work and his pain was fading a bit. It didn't hurt so much to breathe and his head was merely throbbing now. He was using his right hand to eat; it hurt to hold the fork in his left.
Quietly, she watched him. She was used to him being quiet, but not quite this quiet. He had perked up a little; some color had returned to his face and he didn't look quite so miserable. So she decided to start the conversation she knew they needed to have. "Bobby, I…I am so sorry about yesterday."
He frowned, fork in midair. "You? You are sorry? Did I miss something?"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the murder, that I just left and said nothing."
"Like Deakins told you to."
"He regrets it, too."
"Good. He should. But not you."
"I should have told you."
He shrugged, wincing at the pain that flared in both his head and his chest. "Forget about it, Alex."
"I can't forget it. I feel like I betrayed you, let you down."
"I felt like that…but not for long. I knew there had to be a reason you didn't tell me, and there was. I'm fine with that."
She studied him for a long moment. "So where did that anger come from?"
He put his fork down, resting his head on his hand and rubbing his forehead, eyes closed. Finally he looked at her. "From pain, mostly. There was some anger. I was angry that Deakins put you in a situation like that with me. He should have trusted you to know whether or not to tell me. He should have left that up to you. But I…had a hard time…seeing Father Sean like that. I had to…blame myself for it, for a while. I hate feeling like…things are out of control. And that is exactly how I felt."
"I could see that."
"I…took it out on you. I'm sorry."
"You took it out more on yourself."
"Yeah, well…now I have to wander around the city looking for my car."
She laughed softly. "Do you have any idea where you left it?"
"Not a clue."
"You left it in Battery Park."
"Oh."
"Do you remember being there?"
He nodded. "I was walking there, by the harbor, until dark."
"Where'd you go after that?"
"I don't know. I just walked. Then I found a bar and spent the rest of the night there."
"How'd you get home?"
He shrugged. "Cab. I don't remember a lot. But I do remember yelling at you, and that you were crying. I am so sorry for that. I…never meant to hurt you."
"I know that, Bobby."
"Uh…how did you know where my car is?"
"It was called in and they called Deakins when they found out it was yours. He had them tow it to his house, so it's safe."
"Oh." He nodded. Deakins did take care of his people. "I guess I should call him."
"He'd probably appreciate that. He was pretty worried about you. I guess you'll hear all about it."
"Probably. I expected to hear it from you."
"And I was going to give it to you," she answered with a smile. "But…I think you've been punished enough."
He raised his eyebrows, sending more pain through his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath…wrong thing to do. He sat there, eyes closed, waiting for the pain to recede before looking at her again. "Thanks...for not leaving."
She gave him a reassuring smile. "This wasn't about being mad at Deakins, or even about me, though. Was it?"
"Not entirely."
"Then what else was there?"
"Hearing Father Sean had been murdered, and seeing him there…I lost it, Eames. I lost control of the anger and the pain and let the rage take over."
"You had nothing to do with what happened to him."
"I know that. Believe me, I tried to take the blame. I do realize it's not mine. But that doesn't stop the grief."
"I know. I liked him, too."
"I don't like it when things start to spin out of control. I…I just snapped. I…scared myself."
"You scared me, too. How do you feel today?"
"Back to normal, mostly…other than feeling like I've been hit by a bus. And I am sorry that I caused you any grief."
"Just don't let it happen again, Goren."
He smiled. "I'll do my best."
She cleared away the dishes and asked, "Why were you surprised to find me still here?"
"I wasn't exactly nice to you last night. I do remember telling you to leave."
"And I do everything you tell me to, right?"
He smiled, slowly getting up and walking over to the couch. The pain was manageable, but he was feeling groggy. She sat beside him, gently smoothing his hair. "You need a shower. You've got blood everywhere."
He nodded, looking at her through half-closed eyes. He reached up and stroked her cheek. "Forgive me?"
She slid into his arms. "Of course I do. You aren't going to scare me off, Goren. I know you too well, and I understand you. Most of all, I love you. But I swear if you ever scare me like you did yesterday, I'll kill you."
He nodded. "And I'll let you. It's got to be better than feeling like this."
She laughed softly. "I think you're getting off lightly."
He placed his finger under her chin and tipped her face up toward his. Gently he kissed her, and she held him in her arms as he went back to sleep.