Bailey returns to her office chair with a full cup of caffeine after her partner leaves. She silently digs through cold case files as the squad room's energy lulls to the bubbling pulse of the morgue. The cool night air outside, and the old building mean a significant draft. The young sergeant who embodies grace, and grit seems unfazed as she thumbs through old files. For a moment she pauses to survey the scene before her. The files cover her desk, as well as her partners. She glances at her phone wondering when murder, and mayhem will pry her from the past to catapult her squarely in the presence. The ringer simply refuses to offer her any reprieve. She allows the twelve point font to suck her down a rabbit hole.
In the wee hours on Christmas morning he rolls over to find the other side of the bed empty. He contemplates presents, and wrappings, and mentally checks off all of the things on his to do list. He rises from his warm spot in the bed. In the safety of their kitchen he finds his wife parked at the kitchen table. He takes a seat next to her, as he eyeballs the glass of bourbon on the surface of the table between them.
"We got everything on the list," he insists.
She nods, "I know."
"I bought all eight million batteries that you requested," he continues, "Regular, and rechargeable. So tell me why you're sitting alone in the kitchen at three o'clock in the morning drinking bourbon."
"No," she turns from him.
"No?" His brow furrows.
"It's not bourbon. It's whiskey."
"I have never witnessed this kind of undoing from you. What is eating at you?"
"I told you to leave it alone," she answers through gritted teeth.
Goren furrows his brow, "The soup? Is that what you are upset about? I just added a dash of pepper."
She shakes her head, "Not the damn soup, Bobby!"
"Alex! It's too early for Santa. Lower your voice before you wake someone up."
"No one in this household has believed in Santa for years."
"You're absolutely seething, and I have no clue what I have done."
"Just once I thought you could overcome your obsessive tendencies to heed my warning. I could not have been clearer on the matter."
"What matter?"
"Your partner."
"Garrett? I thought you understood that I needed more information on her before I can fully trust her to have my back."
"You are unbelievable!"
"I don't know why you are upset with me? My core character flaws remain the same as they always have."
"And you have jeopardized the life that we have worked so hard to build."
"How has researching my partner jeopardized anything?"
"Not every gamble is worth it, Bobby!"
"Can we finish this conversation another time?"
She pushes her chair away from the table, and throws the glass across the room. It comes to a halt as it hits the wall, and shatters on the ground.
He shakes his head, "Walk it off. You aren't going to ruin Christmas with whatever nonsense is going on in your head right now."
He offers her a coat from the hook, and gently touches her back to nudge her towards the kitchen door. She turns, and shoves him. He refuses to be moved, and instead wraps her in his arms.
"I don't know what button I've pushed. I don't understand, but I am right here. We are in this together."
She wriggles loose of his grip. Tears sting her flushed cheeks. She wipes her dripping noses on the sleeve of her pajamas.
"I should go to bed before I say, or do anything else I regret."
"I'll clean this up."
December 25th, 1995 0309
Alex slowly moves towards the entrance of the hospital. She finds a familiar face standing near the side entrance. The RN is exhaling her main maladaptive coping skill.
"Michelle those things will kill you."
She instinctively extinguishes the cigarette. Alex's face is barely visible in the sad glow of the security light. The contusions stick out like a sore thumb.
"Who did that to you?"
"It doesn't matter," she insists, wincing.
"Come on inside, and I'll make sure that you get fixed up."
"I can't stay. We both know if I do you call the police, and then I end up a body no one ever finds."
"Why are you here at this hour if you don't want my help?"
"You are the only person that I trust right now. I desperately need your help, but not with stiches, or an ice pack."
"Okay," the tall dark haired nurse agrees.
"I am not who you think I am."
"I'm sure Trixie is an alias. I know you're just out there trying to survive."
"I am undercover. I've gotten myself into a real jam," Alex takes a step closer.
Michelle, for the first time notices the banker's box in that is pressed against her.
"What's in the box?"
"I need you to take this," she offers the box to Michelle.
Her eyes widen as she peers inside. Alex tucks a note into the pocket of her scrubs.
"Everything is in the note. Burn the note when you're done. No one can ever know," Alex turns to go.
"Wait!"
As her shoes crunch in the snow she is keenly aware of the wailing that grows further away with each step.