Author's Note: Oh goodness, even this one got me while I was writing it. I suggest tissues, and a strong composition.
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Title: Unspeakable
Prompt: Madness
Rating: G
Warning: Angst!
Summary: "Except for you, right?"
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"Mom, what was Dad like…you know…before?" Fifteen year old Alicia Eames-Goren asked, looking away from the window she had been staring out of since they left Carmel Ridge. Alex Eames-Goren swallows hard and blinks back a few tears. She knew this day was coming, ever since Alicia became old enough to understand what happened to her father.
"Hang on a second, Ally, let me find a place to park." Alex found a little park just off the highway and parked. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to deal with the memories.
"Your dad, your dad was brilliant," Alex started, "He was the best detective I've ever worked it. He could go into a criminal's head and figure them out. He caught all these details that everyone else would over look. And he could get people to talk."
Alex took a shaky breath, "He just needed five minutes with a person and they'd be singing like a canary. Your dad was amazing. But…he made people uncomfortable. His brain and brawn made most people leave him alone."
"Except for you, right?"
"After awhile, yes, I…I learned how to work with him and…and understand him." She saw her daughter's smile, Bobby's smile, "He was gentle too and protective. It took him awhile to realize that he didn't need to step between me and perps. And we became friends, really…good friends."
"And then you fell in love," Alicia teased and Alex laughed.
"It was hard, being partners and being close, but we…" She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, "We couldn't give up each other." She reached across the center consol for her daughter's hand and held tight, "He loves you, so, so, much Ally. He would call you his angel, his gift, he had a million nicknames for you. He would just hold you for hours, not saying anything just sitting there, which was a big deal for your dad. I know you don't remember a lot of the good times, but what you should know was he was a great man and a great father." Alex closed her eyes and leaned her head back, trying to keep control on her emotions. Talking about Bobby before his mother's disease had caught up with him made him someone else.
"Thanks Mom," Alicia said softly with the same lump in her throat as Alex. Alex nodded and started the car again. The rest of the night was typical, dinner together and then a movie before Alicia went to bed. Alex locked the door to her room that night and went to her closet. From way in the back she pulled out one of Bobby's old shirts and slipped it on. She then curled up in the middle of the bed, the bed she used to share with Bobby, and cried herself to sleep.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love. – Washington Irving