Rune Alignment

Chapter 39

"Alex, I'm going to go get us some food. We've been here almost seven hours. He's going to have to eat something pretty soon. I won't be thirty minutes, there's a bodega on the next block. Can I get you anything in particular?" Lynne Bishop was being the big sister to both Alex and Bobby.

Alex shook her head, thought a minute, and then said, "Get him some orange juice, a couple bottles. And a few apples if they have any. He likes salt and vinegar potato chips, too. If they have a deli, get him pastrami on rye with lots of yellow mustard. Do you need some money?"

"No, I'm good. What about you, what do you want?"

"I'm not hungry."

"I'll get something. You have to be strong for him. I'll be right back." Bishop left and Eames sat, wondering, fearing.

Eames went to the attendant and said, "I'm going to go sit with my friend, ok?" The attendant nodded, "Room three, right around the corner."

Eames opened the door quietly, stepped in and saw Bobby in the far chair, bent over, elbows on knees, with his hands laced behind his neck. I caused this, she thought, I love him and I did this to him. "Bobby?"

He didn't move. "What did the doctor say?"

"She's going to die."

"He said that? The doctor told you she's going to die?"

Bobby sat up, looked at his partner and said matter-of-factly, "Yeah, she's going to die. She was shot three times in the back because I didn't pick up the shooter before he got to her. That's what he said."

Eames crossed to him in three steps. "Bobby, I, I'm . . . forgive me. Please. I'm so sorry."

He looked up at Eames, studied her face, saw the pain and regret she carried. "Go to hell."

"BP is sixty-two over eighty-four."

"Process and bag those for the police. Let's patch that artery first."

A nurse set the pan with the two slugs on a counter along the wall and began to work. Another held a flat tray with three patches the size of a big man's thumbnail. Each patch was made of white, green and red, tightly woven threads; the threads stuck out from the four edges of the patch, like fringe on a rug.

"Rinse this, please," the doctor said and a nurse ran a soft stream of water from a thin tube over the dent in Gleason's artery. The doctor dabbed the dent and reached for a patch. "How's she doing?"

"BP is still sixty-two over eighty-four. Pulse is slow and erratic. The machine is breathing for her."

Bobby's head pounded as he left the small conference room and returned to the waiting room. He took the same seat he had had most of the day. People had come and gone. Bishop was gone, he noticed.

His left hand throbbed in time with his head. A huge chunk of meat was missing from his middle knuckle. He could see wet, red and white tissue. He would have a scar. The rest had started to scab over and the skin was tight. He tried bending his knuckles and the skin ripped open where the scab had started to form; it stung like crazy and he winced. Shit!

Bobby's mind flitted like a dragonfly. He'd had her for so short a time, just days, not even a week. It was good, so good. His heart felt like his left fist, raw, torn, a huge piece missing. And, like his hand, his heart would bear a scar. He caught a sob and settled back, right ankle over his left thigh, lacing his fingers against his mouth.

Eames cell phone rang three times before she heard it. "Eames," she said. She was still sitting in the small room.

"Anything new?" Deakins asked.

"It's not good. The doctor told Bobby that Gleason was probably not going to make it."

"Jesus. How's he doing?"

Eames didn't know what to say. She couldn't say anything because the lump in her throat was chocking off her air.

"Alex? How's Bobby?"

"Uhm, he's, he's . . ." the shudder in her voice was loud and clear, "he's very angry at me. He's a mess, really. He put his fist through the wall in the men's room. The department will have to take care of that."

Deakins said nothing and then, "Ok. Is Lynne still there?"

"She went to get some food. She'll be back shortly."

"Alex, how are you?"

She sobbed once and said, "This is all my fault. I told him not to pick up Elliott. I listened to Edward. I should have never have done that. I needed to stand by Bobby. But I didn't do that, I went with Sledge and now she's going to die and it's my fault. He hates me. He'll never forgive me. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

Deakins listened to her cry. He had wondered about her decision when she'd convinced Goren not to go pick up the student. Eames had always trusted Goren. Their mutual trust is what made them so good together. They were his best team. He wondered if they would survive this.

"Alex, this is no one person's fault. This case has too many variables. Right now, you need to be strong for Bobby. He needs you; he's depending on you. He's lashing out at you because you are the closest one to him. He has to put that anger somewhere because it's too much for him to bear on top of all the other things he's feeling. You're his friend, the closest person to him so he's going to lay it all on you. Don't beat yourself up. We have to take this one minute at a time. Deal with what he needs right now. There will be time afterward to sort out all the feelings. Just be there for him, ok?"

"Yes."

"Call me if anything happens. I'm going to call Bobby. Does he have his cell?"

"Yes."

"Take care of him. And yourself."

"Bye." Eames shut her phone. Deakins was everyone's dad.

Bobby's cell rang and he pulled it from his pocket. He flipped it open, looked at the incoming number and flipped it shut.