A/N: The hospice I have used here does not actually exist, except for in my mind. James Butler Bonham was one of the heroes of the Alamo, and many places, especially in central Texas, have been named after the Alamo's heroes, particularly Crockett, Travis, Bowie and Bonham. Many thanks to The Confused One for her opinion on this chapter.


She watched as he finished tying his tie. She liked this particular suit of his and she was glad he'd brought it. His cobalt blue shirt and blue striped tie brought out enough of the blue in the dark suit to show it was not black. She had chosen a hunter green sleeveless dress with a matching jacket. He buttoned his jacket and turned to her, his apprehension clear in his brown eyes. "Ready?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"Eames, I'll never be ready. I'm not even sure I'm willing. Let's just go."

She laid a hand on his arm and said softly, "I'll be right there with you."

He nodded, lightly kissing her. "I know. And you're the only reason I can do this."

He opened the door and followed her through it.

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It was a nice compound situated just west of the city, beautifully landscaped with many trees and an abundance of sitting areas. A non-descript sign sat near the driveway off the highway: James B. Bonham Hospice Community. There were bungalows situated around the property and a main building in the center of the grounds. Eames parked the car and they headed for the main entrance. A tall woman, maybe five inches shorter than Bobby, greeted them in the lobby. She wore a gray business suit and carried herself with confidence. "Welcome to our hospice. My name is Charlotte Sutton. I am the director of the hospice community. How may I help you?"

Eames replied, "We're here to see Emily Tanner. I called last night."

The director's face became serious. "You are Miss Eames?" She looked at Goren. "And Mr. Goren?"

"Yes. We are."

"I will take you to her room myself. She has spent the past few months in one of our bungalows, since she does not have any family to care for her at home. We have ten bungalows for patients who need the care and support of a family but have none of their own. Our volunteers are amazing people; this is a very difficult thing to do, caring for the dying and then saying good-bye."

Softly, Goren said, "I couldn't do it."

Eames gently took his hand and he squeezed it. The director continued, "Emily moved here into the total care wing about two weeks ago, once she became too weak to care for herself." She looked at the two detectives. "Are you prepared for this? Emily...only has hours left."

"Is she conscious?" Eames asked.

"Yes. She asked us to go lightly on the pain medicine until after she saw you."

"Is...is she in much pain?" Goren asked, hesitantly.

Charlotte looked at him. "Yes, Mr. Goren. She is."

She stopped in front of a closed door. "This is her room. Call if you need anything. You may stay as long as you wish, but realize that the end is not far away. If you have never seen a person who has died..."

Eames almost smiled. "We'll be fine, Ms. Sutton. We're police detectives."

"Ah...very well. Have a nice visit."

Goren watched her walk down the hallway. "A nice visit?"

Eames looked up at him. "Would you rather she said 'Have fun'?"

"I don't know what I'd rather, Eames," he whispered hoarsely. "I would rather this had not happened at all. I would almost rather be at a crime scene...anywhere but here."

She looked up at him. "I'm not going to make you do this, Bobby."

He shook his head. "I have to. How could I face myself again if I didn't?"

"Just remember, I'm here."

He kissed her forehead. "I know."

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be."

She reached up and gently laid a hand on his cheek. He turned his head to kiss her palm. Then she reached for the doorknob.

The soft hiss of oxygen was the only sound in the room. An IV pole near the bed held an infusion pump. The red number 10 was on the display and red indicator lights ran in a circle to indicate the pump was running. Her eyes were closed and a warm blanket was drawn up to her chest. Her arms were free, resting along her sides. Her body barely made a lump in the bed. Her complexion was pale and sallow, cheeks and eyes sunken. An oxygen cannula rested under her nose. He stopped, and Eames looked up at him. His hand tightened on hers, then he released it. She squeezed his arm and proceeded to the side of the bed. He remained where he was.

Eames walked to the bedside, sliding her hand into Emily's. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled. "Alex..." she said, her voice barely a whisper. "You came."

"I promised, didn't I?"

"Did...did Bobby come?"

"Yes."

Taking a deep breath, Goren came up on the other side. "Hi, counsellor."

She shifted her eyes to look at him. "Hi, detective. You...wore Armani..."

"You seemed to like it."

She nodded weakly. Her left hand moved in a weak imitation of a pat. "Please...sit...both of you."

They each lightly sat on opposite sides of her. Goren took her other hand. She looked from one to the other. "Thank you..."

Eames' eyes were bright with unshed tears. "We wanted to be here," she said.

Goren reached toward her and lightly smoothed her hair back from her forehead. Her hand moved in his, the closest she could come to squeezing it. "So," she said softly. "How do I look?"

Eames bit her lower lip, but Goren answered, "Beautiful, as always."

"Smooth talker."

"You know it."

Eames watched him. She knew him well enough to see his tension, but he hid it easily from Emily. After years of visiting his mother on a weekly basis, the setting did not disturb him. The spectre of death, however, did. But so far he was doing amazingly well, and when he met her eyes, she gave him a soft, sad smile, which he weakly returned.

Emily tried to take a deep breath which resulted in a deep cough that racked her body. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. Goren reached for the box of tissues in the small basket on the IV pole in front of him and gently wiped the blood from her face. "Sorry," she said. "Every time I cough..."

"It's okay," he answered.

She turned her head to look at Eames. "Such a long way to come..."

Eames smiled. "Not for a friend."

"I wasn't sure I wanted..." She drew a coarse breath. "...you to see me this way."

Goren's face was dark and serious. "No one should..." He had trouble with the next word. "...die alone."

"There are people...here."

"People," Eames said gently. "But not friends."

"No...not like you." She looked at Goren. "No one like you."

His mouth twitched slightly. "You'd have a hunt on your hands to find someone like me."

Emily laughed weakly...another cough. "True," she managed.

Her body was dying, but her spirit was strong and bright. They saw that clearly past the pain in her eyes. She took a few shallow breaths. "I need..to sleep. Don't...leave."

Eames stroked her hand. "We won't. We'll stay right here."

Goren leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. She smiled as she closed her eyes. He looked at Eames. She reached across the bed to lightly caress his hair. He gave her a soft smile. "Are you okay?" she whispered quietly.

He nodded. "You?"

She hesitated before nodding her head. He took her free hand and kissed it. And they sat quietly as Emily slept.

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She woke as the noon hour approached. An orderly brought in a tray with a small bowl of broth and a small container of apple juice. Quietly, he said, "You can try to encourage her to eat. She had a few sips at dinner last night. Whatever she's comfortable with."

"Thanks," Eames replied.

The voices roused Emily. She moved a little, her hands tightening slightly on theirs. "You're still here..."

"Of course we are," Eames answered. "They just brought your lunch. Would you like to try some?"

She shook her head. "No, thank you."

She tried to push herself up on the pillow. The two detectives helped her; Eames raised the head of the bed a little. Emily smiled. "Better."

She seemed a little stronger after her nap. "How are...Mike and Carolyn?" she asked softly.

"Good," Eames answered. "They sent their best."

"No more bruises?"

Eames glanced at her partner. "No. The boys have been behaving."

Emily's smile was weak, but it shone strong in her eyes. Softly, she said, "I know I don't have...much longer...but I'm...ready..." She paused to breathe. "...for the pain to end."

Goren nodded at the IV pump. "Does this help?"

"Yes. It still...hurts...but it's manageable. They could...knock me out...until it's over..." A few more breaths. "But...I didn't want...that. And I wanted...to see you both...again..." A weak smile. "I want to die...my way...with you near me...if you'll stay..."

Eames looked at Goren, who nodded. She smiled at Emily. "We'll stay for as long as you want us to."

"Thank you..." She looked thoughtful. After a long moment, she asked, "How will you...remember me?"

Eames thought for a minute before she answered. "I'll remember you laughing and smiling when Carolyn and I took you to the Empire State Building."

She smiled. "That's a great memory."

She looked at Goren. Eames decided to give them a moment alone, knowing he would never ask for it. "I need to use the rest room. I'll be right back."

She met Goren's eyes and gave him a small smile. He watched her as she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. He turned back to Emily, who brought her right hand over so she could hold his hand in both of hers. "I can see...how much you love her." He just smiled. Her fingers lightly stroked his forearm. "How will...you remember me?"

"I'll remember you in the mountains, carrying that pack that was almost too big for you...and at night, by the fire...that's what I'll remember."

She nodded. "Good...not...not this."

"These memories will be there, Emily. But when I think of you, this won't be what I remember."

She was quiet for a long moment. "Bobby...could you...have loved me...if things had been...different..."

"Between Alex and me?" She nodded. He studied her face, not seeing the drawn, skeletal face before him, but the vibrant, smiling face he remembered from Colorado. "Yes," he answered simply.

She swallowed with difficulty. "Do you know...that I...I love you?"

He nodded. "I know. And if I caused you any pain..."

She was shaking her head. "No...no pain...just...happy memories...good memories to...take with me..."

He smiled. "Good. You saved me from myself, you know. I was...lost without her. You helped to steer me back onto the path I needed to be on. You're always going to have a place in my heart, Emily."

"Thank you..." she whispered. "Could you do one...thing for me?"

"Sure."

"Just...kiss me good-bye..."

That he could do. Sliding one hand from hers, he laid it lightly against her cheek. Leaning forward, he kissed her. When he drew back, she smiled and tightened her hand on his. "Thank you, Bobby..."

"I wish there was more I could do."

She shook her head. "You've done...everything you could...for me."

A light knock and Eames came in, carrying a tray with two plates and two cups of coffee on it. She set it on the tray table next to Emily's tray. "I thought maybe if we had lunch with you, you'd take a few sips of broth."

Emily smiled. "If it will...make you feel better..."

Goren released her hands and helped his partner with the food. Removing the covers from the plates, he smiled at her. "Comfort food, Eames?"

"That's the best kind of food on a cold winter day."

He raised an eyebrow. "Cold?"

"It is for Texas."

He looked at Emily, who was smiling at them. "What comfort food?" she asked quietly.

"Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans," Eames replied.

"And coffee," Goren added.

"Do I have...chicken or beef broth?"

He looked under the bowl's cover. "Beef."

She nodded. "Good..."

She took a few sips of broth from the spoon he held for her and several sips of apple juice Eames offered. Then she rested back into her pillow. "I'll just rest...while you eat..." She closed her eyes.

Eames looked at her partner, who was watching Emily. He shifted his eyes toward her, and she saw the pain he had so far been able to hide from the dying woman. Reaching toward him, she squeezed his hand. He smiled at her, kissing her hand. After eating, they sat in the two chairs near her bed. Eames had not slept well the night before and she dozed off. Goren had not slept at all, but he sat there, vigilant, watching the two women sleep. He noticed when Emily's breathing became more shallow, and all he could think to do was hold her hand. "Eames..."

She woke easily, looking across the bed at him. She looked at Emily, who had not woken. "Should we get someone?"

He shrugged. "I've never done this before. What can they do?"

"She doesn't seem uncomfortable."

"I'm...not..." Emily said softly, opening her eyes. "I just...want you here...please..."

Eames took her hand and squeezed. "We'll be here."

She looked from Eames to Goren and smiled, closing her eyes again. She spent the rest of the afternoon drifting in and out. Every half hour or so a nurse would come in to check on her and adjust her IV settings if needed. But she did not seem to be in unbearable pain. Every once in awhile, she would softly groan or whisper a name, most commonly calling for Chris.

Just before sunset, she stopped drifting toward consciousness. A nurse came in to check on her. She looked from Eames to Goren and said softly, "Say your last good-byes. She'll hear you, but she won't be around to listen for very much longer."

They both rose and stood beside the bed. Eames looked at him, and he nodded. "Go ahead, Alex."

She sighed and looked at Emily's face, which seemed peaceful. Leaning closer, she said, "I'm glad I got to know you, Emily. I'm going to miss talking to you alot. But most of all, I want to thank you, again, for taking care of Bobby." She kissed her cheek. "Good-bye."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding Emily's hand. Looking at Goren, she said, "Your turn."

He didn't really know what to say. He was no good at saying good-bye, though by all accounts, he should be. He touched her hair, then ran his fingers down the side of her face. "Good-bye, counsellor. Thanks...and be happy again. Say hi to Chris for me."

He leaned down and softly kissed her one last time. He also continued to hold her hand, but chose to remain standing. Her breathing became more and more shallow until, not long after sunset, it stopped all together. They remained with her until the nurse came in again. She listened to her chest with her stethoscope. "I'll have to get the doctor, but she's gone. I am sorry."

They watched her leave the room. In silence, they remained until she returned with the doctor and other staff members. Leaving the team to do whatever they needed to do, the two detectives backed away from the bed and slipped from the room.

The ride back to the hotel was silent. Eames kept glancing toward him as she drove, but he just looked out the window in silence. She left him alone for the time being. She knew better than to try to confront him when he was reeling from raw pain. She would wait until she saw the right opportunity, and then she would make him deal with his loss...and help her deal with hers.