Fragile Glass
Part Four: Fine Out
By: Lizzie B
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Author's Note: Part four, in record time. This might just be an all-nighter folks, lol. Don't you just love it when your muse keeps flogging you until you finish something? I don't, lol. Incase your interested, all the part titles come from glass blowing. Please read and review.
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Bobby knows he's not going to sleep. He knows Alex is going to set up her couch for him and then get him a glass of water. She'll pretend to go to bed and he'll spend the night, staring at her ceiling replaying the day over and over again. He had known for years this day would come. He knew the medications would some day not be enough to control his mother's disease. He hadn't thought it would be so soon.
His mother, for all the times she had thought he was "them", was still the only person to show him any sort of care and kindness. He needs those brief moments when there was recognition in her eyes. He needs to be able to tell her about his successes and have her tell him she was proud.
Alex did exactly what Bobby expected. While he stood just inside her door, she disappeared down a hall and came back with an old quilt and a pillow. He'd spent plenty of nights here when they worked cases and had always enjoyed the experience. It was a safe way to indulge himself with her. He had called her out of pure instinct. When in trouble, he reached for her and she was always there to steady him.
"I'll get something for you hands," She says, "Grab a seat and we'll see if you'll live."
"Okay," He responds dully, sitting dutifully on the couch and waiting. He wants to call her back. He wants to beg and plead with her to make this empty ache go away. Kneeling in the snow only hours before he felt something besides anger and self-loathing, he felt safe and loved. He felt Alex.
When she returns she sits on the coffee table in front of him and starts pulling out the things she'll need to bandage his torn and bloody knuckles. He holds out his hands and she dabs at his knuckles with peroxide. He knows why he starts silently crying while she tends to his wounds. Once his mother did the same after his father had beaten him. He understands know why he called her, why he held her and why he's got to make sure she understands just what she means to him.
"Eames," He says softly, getting her to look at him.
"What's wrong?" She asks, noting the tears that have rolled down his cheeks.
"I have to tell you something and you…you have to listen. No interrupting, okay?"
"Alright," She agrees hesitantly. Obviously she's not sure where he's going, but she's trusting him.
"You have to understand…you know…being close to people is…very hard for me. I can't just let people in. You…you're in and, and I want you there. You've made things…better, easier for me. At work, you keep me balanced and you…you stayed. I can't explain what it's like…what it means that you did. Eames…Alex, you're all I have left and all I could ask for." She stares at him, and his heart sinks. He's done it again, over stepped what was right and what was accepted. "I'm…I'm sorry, Alex, I shouldn't have, I…I'll go now."
