This was written as part of an rpg, and recommended that it should become a story. I may or may not add more later, we'll see. But here's the piece of it. Many thanks to Darcy Brandon, Aldrex, Bean02,I.Adler and the rest of the gang, you all know who you are :D.

Songs are Last Resort by Papa Roach and Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional. I do not own Bobby Goren, Nicole Wallace or Alex Eames. Richard Goren is a twisted part of my imagination...mostly. But the rest belongs to Dick Wolf and we love him for it.


Last Resort

He hung up the phone and stared down at the floor for a long time, unmoving. It was all his fault. He endangered them, all of them, to get Wallace... And now this. Bobby knew he couldn't handle it anymore. He took a shaky breath. There was only one option left. He had to leave. The damage had all been done. He should have left long ago, he shouldn't have stayed at all. Because all it would ever do was grow worse.

Turning, he looked back towards the bedroom, and silently walked in. She hadn't heard him get up to answer the phone. She was still asleep - beautiful, laying there with the faint moonlight from the window. He reached over and brushed a lock of hair from her face, letting his fingers linger for only a moment. Had it been a mistake? For a few fleeting moments in his existence, Bobby had been happy. He had been wanted and loved. But perhaps if he truly loved her...then he would protect her. Leaning down, he gently kissed her forehead, smiling slightly when she stirred and didn't wake. A part of him wanted her to wake up, to put her arms around him again and to tell him that it would work out, and that it would be ok. Because they were here, and this was safe. But she didn't wake up, and he was glad. He didn't want to see her eyes when he said goodbye. For a moment, he watched her sleep again, wanting so much just to stay with her. But then he turned, and walked out of the room.

Sitting down at the table, he found what he was looking for on the computer. It had long been there. He always hoped he would never have to use it, and several times he had considered it. Now...it was time. Adding a date, and a few other things, Bobby printed out the letter of resignation, and signed it at the bottom. They would get it sooner or later, it wouldn't really matter much now. Hesitantly, he glanced back towards the bedroom, and pulled another blank piece of paper out of his binder, quickly writing a note. He took it in and left it on the pillow beside her.

Alex-
I'm sorry. I wish I could stay, but it's better that I don't. Too much has happened, too much that can't be reversed. I never wanted to leave you. But I want to protect you more. This is the only way I can do that. I'm sorry. I still love you. I always will.
- Bobby

With everything the way it was, his shoulders felt surprisingly light as he sat down on the couch. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his knife and laid it flat in his hand, spinning it around a few times. It was funny that he still carried it with him. Old knife.. his father had given it to him. In one of his few moments of decency when he wasn't out having a "good time". He stared down at it, looking at every detail that had already been memorized.

Suddenly Bobby shivered. He closed his eyes and heard the gunshot go off inside his head. To hold a life in your hands was a terrible responsibility. To end it was even more of a pressure. It had been Nicole Wallace. Yet still, her eyes, her face, covered in blood - it haunted him. It haunted him because of Carver, and Deakins. Because of Mike and Millie...and Caro. Because of Barr and Baer, and Stabler. Because of Alex... Because she took him away, and stole his memory and whispered to him. He could hear her whispering.

"So, my dear Bobby... now that I have you, tell me, are you afraid of me? You should be. All great..love...begins with fear. Without fear, we do not respect."

He opened his eyes again suddenly and stood up. Over..it was over. It had been over long ago, it was only waiting for the final push. One last push into the endless abyss. Endless...like night. And endless night, which leads to nothing. Sweet peace and nothing... Nothing, nothing. Just nothing. Dull. No pain.

Cut my life into pieces
This is my last resort
Suffocation, no breathing
Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding

It wasn't alright, it wasn't fine. It was over. Nothing. Deep. Darkness. He couldn't breathe suddenly. His heart pounded. Danger. He had to get out. With one last glance to the bedroom, he went for the door, closing it behind him as he made a desperate attempt for escape. Freedom in the night air. On the sidewalk he could breathe again, the pressure wasn't so bad. But the danger was still there. It was like when he was a boy...and Richard convinced him that 'they' were coming. He believed him. Just like he believed their mother. Danger. Bobby always had a sense of it. When their father came home late at night, he would hide...sometimes under the bed, sometimes in the closet, sometimes in a cupboard. Someplace where he wouldn't be found.

Danger.

And he ran. He didn't care where he was going, but away. Away. To get away. Far away. Leave it behind. But the bitter sing of leaving her was still upon him, ripping at his heart. She had already been hurt this way. It killed him to hurt her again. But rather this...than something worse. He knew what it looked like to watch. He could feel it happening. And he refused to let her have to deal with it. So he ran. He ran until he couldn't run anymore.

They followed, sometimes he could still feel them. Right out of his mother's nightmares. He had been closest to her, he believed what she told him. Richard never did. He was loved..."loved".. by their father. Which was why he always blamed Bobby when the man left. Richard never believed. But he tormented. He had always been like that. He never believed. To Bobby, it had been more than a game. Much more serious. Because they were real. They had names. Strange names. But no stranger than the different species on the Earth, and different languages. It had been his own language, and his mother's, that named them. He felt horrible leaving her too...after Richard had abandon them both when he was only 14, leaving Bobby alone to take care of his mother.

The knife had a bitter edge. It stung, but only for a minute. He sunk down against the wall of the building to sit on the pavement. A bitter edge. To slip away. Slip far...far away.

Too deep now to ever swim against the current
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip away
So let me slip against the current