Eames got up from the chair and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in her back. It wasn't the most comfortable chair in the world to sleep in. She looked out the window at the waking city. Checking the time, she grumbled to herself, "Six-twenty. Geez."

Turning back into the room, she looked at the bed. He was still sleeping. She went down to the cafeteria and got two cups of coffee, a Danish for her and an egg sandwich for him. She got back to the room, adjusted the food on the bedside tray and glanced at the bed. He was watching her. She smiled. "How do you feel?"

"I have a bad headache."

"Still dizzy or nauseous?"

"Dizzy, yes. Nauseous, just a little."

"Hungry? I brought you something to eat."

He grinned. "Thanks."

She hesitated before saying any more. She knew the doctor was going to try to figure out how serious his injury was today, but she was nervous about the answers, and she wasn't sure why. "Eames?"

She looked at him. "What?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you keep adding sugar to your coffee."

Her stomach clenched. Gently remind him of what he has forgotten. "That's how I take it, Bobby."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologize." She walked around the tray and sat on the edge of the bed, resting her hand lightly on his arm. "There is no need for you to apologize for not being able to remember. You have no control over that. We'll deal with it, but I don't want to spend the next however long it's going to take listening you to apologize all the time."

There was that shy half-smile. "I'll try to remember that."

A soft knock disturbed their conversation. Barrett came into the room. "Good morning, Robert, Ms. Eames."

"Hello, Doctor." Eames answered. Goren just smiled.

She slid off the bed as the doctor came forward and asked, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Still not great."

"I'm pleased to see you awake, Robert." He noticed the food on the tray. "I am sorry for disturbing your breakfast."

"Oh, we weren't eating yet. We were…discussing how she takes her coffee."

Eames met the doctor's eyes. "He doesn't remember."

The doctor nodded understanding. He looked at Goren. "Do you remember anything we talked about earlier?"

"We talked about Eames."

"Very good. What did we say about her?"

Goren looked at her. "I like to watch her sleep," he answered, a smile playing at his mouth. "And she's not comfortable when I touch her."

The doctor was surprised at that interpretation. That was not the impression he had gotten at all. And wasn't she just sitting on the bed beside him with her hand on his arm? "Anything else?"

"I told you she's all I have, and the only one I trust to watch out for me."

"Very good. What else did we discuss?"

"How I got hurt."

"Do you remember that?"

"I remember talking about it. I don't remember it happening."

"That's fine. Is that it?"

A shadow crossed his face. "We talked about my mother."

"Excellent. The few hours of rest you got seems to have helped you a lot. Your short term recall is intact, which is very good. Your confusion has diminished as well."

"What confusion?"

"Earlier you had difficulty following our conversation. You have no such problem now."

"Can that return?" Eames asked.

"Yes. And it probably will when he is fatigued, but it will continue to improve as his brain recovers from its injury until it no longer becomes an issue."

Goren leaned back on the bed, tucked his arms behind his head and looked at the ceiling as he listened to them talk. The doctor looked at him, curious. Eames noticed the doctor's expression and smiled. "He's thinking," she explained. "He does that a lot."

Goren lifted his head and looked at them. "I have a lot to think about," he said simply.

"You always do," she replied.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Do I?"

She nodded. "Yes, Bobby. You do."

He tilted his head and looked at her. "I think you're right," he said after a minute. "I need to…figure things out."

"Yes, you do. You try to figure out everything. And you're very good at it."

The frown finally faded from his face. "Lots of practice," he explained simply.

Barrett stood silently, watching the simple interaction between the partners. As he had hoped, she was gentle and understanding, and he responded to that well. "I have to finish my rounds now, but I'll be back this afternoon." He looked at Eames. "Will you be here?"

"I have to go home to shower and change, and check in with our captain, but I'll be back. What time do you expect to be here?"

"Probably around two."

"I'll make sure I'm back by two."

"Very good." He stepped up to Goren's side. "Look at me, Robert." He shined his light in his eyes, then listened to his chest. "You need to cough some more, clear that congestion. I'll see you this afternoon."

Goren grinned. "I'm not going anywhere, apparently."

Barrett smiled in return. "Not yet."

He looked at Eames, then left the room. She turned to Goren. "Your coffee is getting cold."

"So is yours. All that sugar is going to settle into sludge in your cup."

She smiled as she handed him his coffee and took hers, sitting in the chair and studying him. "What?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like something's wrong."

"Something is wrong, Bobby."

"What's wrong?"

"You're sitting in a hospital bed and you have to ask me what's wrong?"

"I…" he stopped, frowning. "Never mind, then."

"Don't get mad," she soothed. "It bothers me that you can't remember things."

"You worry that my mind is going to slip away like my mother's did."

"You worry about that."

"Do I? I guess that makes sense."

"I don't worry about your mind, Bobby. You have the sharpest mind of anyone I know."

"It's a little dull right now."

"I know. And that's why I'm worried about you."

He sighed. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Just tell me you're going to be ok."

"If I knew I would be, I'd tell you that in a second. But I don't want to lie to you."

"You don't think you'll be ok?"

"I don't know for sure, Eames. Right now I feel…fuzzy. Nothing is clear." He watched her. She seemed troubled. "Is something bothering you?"

Normally he wouldn't ask. He would simply state what he saw as obvious. He would be able to tell that something was indeed bothering her and he'd never question his interpretation. If nothing else, Bobby was always confident with his interpretations. She sighed. "I'm bothered that you aren't acting like yourself."

He raised his eyebrows. "Who am I acting like?"

She laughed softly. "I'm not saying you're acting like someone else. You just…aren't completely yourself."

Now he looked confused. "If I'm not myself, who am I?"

"Don't be difficult. And when the doctor says you have amnesia, 'who am I' is not a question I want to hear you asking."

"Amnesia? Who said I have amnesia?"

"Dr. Barrett did, last night when I talked to him in the hall. I'm sure he'll go over it with you this afternoon."

He was annoyed. "I don't care that he tells you what's going on, but I shouldn't be cut out of the loop."

"He isn't trying to cut you out of any loop. He was answering my questions."

"And you never said anything to me?"

She started to snap at him, but Barrett's words returned to her. He will become impatient and frustrated, but that, too, is to be expected. I suspect he will lash out at you, because you are his safety net. She forced down her annoyance. "You went to sleep, remember?"

He rubbed his temple. "I…I'm sorry. I…shouldn't have snapped at you."

"This is going to get very tedious if I have to keep reminding you not to apologize."

"You said not to apologize for not remembering. I'm apologizing for getting mad at you. It's not your fault."

She started laughing. "There's nothing wrong with your mind," she said, giving him a hug. She kissed his cheek. "Look, I'm going to run home to shower and change. Then I need to go in to the squad and talk to Deakins. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Are you ok with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She smiled at him. "I'll see you later, then."

"Bye."

He watched her leave, then he turned onto his side, allowing himself to feel the pain he'd tried to keep hidden from her. He rubbed his temple, but it didn't help any. He tried to sleep, but he couldn't. Reluctantly, he rang for the nurse and asked for something to help with the pain, knowing it would also help him to sleep. Then the time would pass more quickly until Eames returned.