Eames approached the central nurses' station in the intensive care unit at Baylor University Medical Center. It was after ten and visiting hours were over, but she was hoping they would make an exception and she would not have to wait until morning to see Bobby. Barek had checked into their room at a nearby motel and would deal with her wayward partner in the morning. Eames wasn't willing to wait.

The nurse who was sitting at the station looked up. "May I help you?"

"My name is Alex Eames. I'm a police detective from New York. My husband's name is Goren, and he's been here for the last 3 weeks. They told me to come in when I got here."

She nodded with a small smile. "Would you like to talk to his nurse?"

"Eventually. But right now, I just want to see Bobby."

"Of course. Come with me."

She fell in step beside the nurse, who asked, "What have they told you?"

"They said they are waiting for him to wake up so they can transfer him upstairs."

She nodded. "That's true. Your husband is a real fighter, detective. It was a bad accident, and all three men who were involved were admitted here. Because of previous recent injuries, Robert had a harder time than his friends did, but he's healing well now."

"So why is he still in a coma?"

"That we can't explain. Tests all show good brain function, and his neurologist says to just give him time. When he's ready, he'll wake up."

Alex nodded. "Bobby always does things according to his own agenda."

They approached a glass-enclosed cubicle with the curtains drawn. Outside the doorway, looking uncomfortable in a chair that seemed too small for him, sat a mountain of a man in a dark suit. Everything about him screamed federal agent. The nurse explained, "They insist on parking a gorilla in my ICU. Mike's followed him upstairs. They're afraid of losing track of them again, they told us."

"Don't worry. Neither of them will be going anywhere for some time."

The nurse smiled as she nodded toward the doorway. "We have been trying to keep things quiet for him, to reduce stimulation. Some patients retreat further in response to too much light and noise stimulation. He doesn't need to slip any further away. Maybe having you here will draw him back."

Alex smiled faintly. "I hope so."

"You may stay for as long as you like. Just let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you."

The nurse walked away and Alex stepped past the curtain into the cubicle beyond. The room was dark and quiet. Silently, she stepped up to the side of the bed, studying his face in the glow of the monitor over his bed and the IV pump beside it. There were healing bruises on his face along with an abrasion on his forehead and across his right cheek. A healing laceration, with marks indicating it had been stitched, was in front of his right ear. Slowly, she shook her head and reached her hand toward his face. Her fingers lightly ran along the uninjured side of his face. "What did you do?" she whispered, almost inaudibly.

Leaning down, she softly kissed him, taking a deep breath as she stayed close to him, breathing in his scent, mixed with the antiseptic smell of the ICU. Struggling with herself, she straightened and looked again at his face. Her fingers continued to travel along his jaw line and down to his right shoulder, along his arm to his hand, lightly touching each individual finger before interlacing her own fingers with them. He wore no shirt, and the hair on his chest had been shaved in several small areas to facilitate the attachment of the chest leads that ran to the overhead monitor. Her eyes returned to his face. She almost expected to see him watching her, but he remained silent and still. Still…that was the most difficult thing to see, Bobby laying there so still. It was that which frightened her more than anything else. Even sleeping, he was never still for long. Always easily roused by a kiss, a touch, or a small voice whispering "Daddy" in the dark, it troubled her deeply to see him like this. "I'll make a deal with you, Goren," she whispered, loud enough for him to hear. "I should be furious with you. I really should. But if you wake up, I'll just be mad."

Leaning closer, she softly kissed his lips, gently moving her cheek over the stubble on his. Familiar…comforting…exactly what she needed…contact. She was done fighting, done being brave. This was her husband, her partner, and the love of her life. All the stress and uncertainty of the previous weeks flowed over her like a tidal wave and, burying her face in his broad chest, she cried.

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She heard the soft groan and sat forward in her chair, listening. Had she imagined it? No…another groan followed. Rising from the chair she had occupied, on and off, all night long, she stepped to the side of the bed and watched as he fought his way to consciousness. She gently laid a hand on his cheek, smoothing it over his warm skin. His eyes slid open, squinting, even in the subdued light of the room. She could see he was having trouble getting them to focus, but even so, he knew she was the one who stood there by the bed. Softly, his voice hoarse, he called her name. "Hey, you," she whispered, sliding her hand over his forehead to smooth back his hair. "Take it easy."

"Oh, God...Alex...I am so sorry..." She gently wiped the tears that coursed down his cheeks, evidence of his own emotional distress. She ignored the too familiar sensation of the warm tears that trailed from her own eyes. His voice remained soft. "I...you must have...worried..."

Relief coursed through her, and she responded to it by leaning down to firmly kiss him. More tears escaped from her eyes when his hand came up to caress her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. His fingers trailed a light path along her collarbone and she pulled back from the embrace, just far enough that she could see his face. "You stupid ass," she whispered through her tears. "I love you so damn much."

"I...love you, too...Uh, but...I'm gonna...really get it, huh?"

She watched him shift his position, eyes bright with pain. But she wasn't prepared to offer sympathy right now and he sought none. She nodded in agreement. "As soon as you're well enough to get out of this damn bed."

He nodded, trying to moisten his lips. "That's fair." She watched and waited as he slowly breathed in deeply, twice, three times. "M-maggie?"

"She has been so lost. She really doesn't know what to do without you. Bobby, you have no idea how hard this has been. I was..." She choked down more tears as she thought of their little girl and how utterly devastated she had been over the past few weeks as she came to realize something was wrong and Daddy wasn't coming home to her. "I was trying to figure out... how to..." She swallowed another lump. "How to tell Maggie her daddy was never coming home. It would have...destroyed her world, Bobby." Her voice was starting to break, which annoyed her. She swallowed down the raw emotion, focusing instead on her anger and annoyance, though she kept her voice soft. "Like it destroyed mine."

That hit a chord with him; she could see it. "I...I...am sorry..."

He averted his eyes. She didn't take the time to look at it from his point of view, and she wasn't willing to let him withdraw, not right now. She touched his cheek, gently coaxing him to look back at her. He offered no resistance. "Goren, you are in so much trouble with me...and all I can think to do is hug you and never let you go."

She knew he would be much harder on himself than she would ever be on him, but she was being honest. That was exactly what she wanted to do.

"I'm all...all for that..." he said with a ghost of a smile, which seemed to be about all he had the strength to manage. "Um, Tom?"

"He's fine. Growing like a weed and eating like a pig."

And he looks just like you, she added in her mind as she recalled the solace she had gotten from her infant son, with those soft little noises he made just for her and his tendency to snuggle deep into her arms, comforting her in ways she never thought another person could.

She met his eyes, saw the smile through the pain as he nodded and placed his hand over hers. Slowly, his fingers closed around hers and she watched as the effort of the brief conversation took its toll on him. His eyes slid closed as he returned to the darkness, but he would be back. It no longer owned him. She stood beside his bed, held his hand, and watched him sleep. She had never experienced anything like the enormous wave of relief that washed over her, consuming her and driving her back to tears. She once more rested her head against his shoulder and cried, but these were different tears. She knew exactly where he was now, and he'd crossed the abyss to come back to her.

When she once more had a hold of herself, she straightened up and let her fingers trail over his cheek. This time he stirred lightly. Even if he didn't waken to it, she was relieved at his response to her touch. She went to the cubicle door and, ignoring the ever-present FBI agent, motioned to the nurse who was taking care of Bobby for the day. The woman crossed the unit to her. Softly, Eames whispered, "He just woke up."

Stepping aside to let the nurse into the cubicle, she gave the agent another dirty look and disappeared into the dim interior.

Doctors and nurses came and went for the better part of an hour before one of them finally came over to her. He was a middle-aged man, gray and balding, but handsome with piercing blue eyes. "I'm told you are his wife."

She accepted his hand. "Alex Eames. Yes, I am."

"We had assumed he had no family since no one contacted us after the accident."

"We assumed he was dead since he was missing and we had no clue where he was," she answered, struggling to keep the irritation from her tone. She still felt the hospital should have taken it upon themselves to find her rather than rely on the word of the agency that put him there.

"I do apologize for that. My name is Kevin Barker. I'm the neurologist who has been taking care of Robert. Everything looks really good right now. Barring any complications, we can move him upstairs tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Again, I am sorry no one ever contacted you."

"Why did you rely on the FBI to do your job?" she asked.

"We weren't given a choice. They put us under a court order not to contact anyone about him or Detective Logan. The order was only rescinded yesterday, which is why we were able to talk to you at all. They assured us all proper notifications had been made. All we were given were their names and the fact that they were police officers from New York. We were told to do whatever we had to in order to keep them alive. Personally, I'm getting tired of tripping over those hulking agents that have been sitting outside their doors since the day they were admitted. I told them these men are not going anywhere, but they preferred to do things their way."

Mollified, Alex nodded. "That's the FBI for you. I'll let my captain know what you told me. He can deal with it. I'll have my hands full enough when my daughter gets to see him."

"You have children?"

"Two. A girl who is three and a newborn son."

Barker nodded. "I'm sure they'll be glad to have their father back."

"You have no idea, doctor."

He gave her a warm smile and rose, leaving the cubicle. She was once more alone with her husband. Crossing back to the bed, she ran her fingers along his jaw before leaning down to kiss him. He moved a little in response to her and she could feel her apprehension slowly fading. "I love you, you big idiot," she whispered.

Resting her head once more on his chest, she gently ran her fingers over his warm skin and through the curls of soft hair near her face. She felt more than heard his quiet sigh, and she sighed, too. Then silence filled the room once more, broken only by the muted beep of the overhead monitor and the almost silent whisper of the IV pump beside them.