Chapter Twelve
It was so dark that he couldn't see. But he could hear and smell him—hear the grunts, the slurred curses, the shuffling steps, the smack of leather against skin; smell the cheap scotch and perfume.
"Stay quiet," he thought. "If you stay quiet, he won't find you."
The shuffling stopped. He froze, not moving, taking small, soft breaths. The sound of leather against skin continued.
"C'mere, boy…" Smack! "You ungrateful bastard…" Smack! "Time to take your punishment…" Smack!
He struggled not to shiver, not to cry.
"No…" Her voice cried. "Don't hurt him…He hasn't done anything wrong…"
The smacking stopped.
"Shut up, or I'll shut you up…I pay enough for him…He should respect me…I'll teach him to respect me." Smack!
He jerked at the sound. "No," he thought. "Don't let him know…Don't let him find you…Please don't let him hurt her…"
"C'mere, you mama's boy…so smart…Think you know more than me…I'll teach you something you can't learn in books…"
"No," she said. "He's a good boy…a kind boy…Don't hurt him…"
There was a crash, and she screamed. "No! No!"
"I told you," he yelled. "I'll shut you up!"
The boy exploded from his hiding place. "No! Don't you touch her! Don't you hurt her!"
"Robert…No…No…Run away…Get away…No…Robert…Robert…Bobby…Bobby…"
He fought to see through the darkness. Faces around him morphed from his mother to Alex to Angela Corelli; from his father to Gregory Claret. He tried to fight, but he was so tired and there was so much pain. His chest was on fire; a hammer pounded inside his head.
"Bobby…Bobby…It's all right…"
"Alex," he thought. "It's Alex…" The fear drained away; the fire eased; the pounding softened. He tried to speak, but only a strangled gurgle emerged.
"Easy," Alex said gently. Her hand was on Bobby's left arm. "You've been out for a while…And that was after being blown up…Here…" She raised a cup of water and held the straw so Bobby could take a sip.
"Thank you," he whispered after he drank the blessedly cool water. He tried to sit up and was rewarded with several wracking coughs. Tears filled his eyes, and Bobby gasped in pain.
Alex reached to hit the call button. "Take it easy…"
Bobby fell back on the pillows. "Angela…Angela Corelli?"
"She's doing remarkably well," Alex said gently. "You helped her a lot…Her husband returned your jacket…" She pointed to the leather jacket lying over the back of her chair.
Bobby relaxed slightly. "And Stabler?"
"He's got a walloping headache and a good sense of guilt…Both of which he'll survive," Alex said lightly. "Please," she thought. "Don't ask about Mrs. Czechowski…"
"Good…good…" Bobby murmured. He shivered.
"Here…" Alex tenderly pulled the covers over him.
"It…it was so cold…so cold…in that place," Bobby whispered.
A flock of nurses arrived, quickly followed by Dr. Phillips and other doctors. They gently brushed Alex aside and hovered around Bobby. After several minutes, they pulled away, leaving a pleased Phillips to speak with Alex and Bobby.
"I know you may not feel like it right now," he said. "But you're doing very well."
"I'd hate to know how I'd feel if I was doing badly," Bobby said.
Phillips smiled. "Just don't be afraid to ask for anything…Especially pain medication…I have hopes we can move you from the ICU to a regular room tomorrow…" He nodded to Alex and left.
Alex stepped closer to Bobby's bed. He was clearly exhausted and struggled to keep his eyes open.
"It's all right, Bobby," she said. "Get some rest…"
He closed his eyes, and Alex sat in the chair.
"My…My Mom…" His voice startled her. "Someone…someone needs to call…make sure she's ok…" His voice was soft and hesitant, and Alex guessed that pain and exhaustion weren't the only reasons for it.
"I called," she said, hoping that Bobby wouldn't think her actions were an intrusion. "I called Dr. Shimo…"
Bobby stared at his blankets; his left hand clutched at the sheet.
"He's going to make sure your Mom gets her treatments…He's going to tell her that you're hurt when he thinks she can handle it.."
"Thank you," Bobby said after several of the longest moments of Alex's life. "Thank you for tracking him down…"
"You're welcome," Alex said. "It wasn't too hard for a First Grade Detective."
"She…was it yesterday or the day before…She wasn't good." Bobby cracked open one of his locked doors. "She…she was very confused. I…It wasn't a good visit…I…I was actually glad to get Stabler's call…Gave me something to do…" He took a deep breath and coughed.
Alex gripped his left hand. "Are you ok? You want me to call…"
"I…I'm ok." He closed his eyes for a moment. "The meds are helping."
He became quiet, and Alex hoped he'd fallen asleep. Just as she started to breath more easily, he whispered.
"Mrs. Czechowski…Have they found her? Is she all right?"
Alex took a deep breath and leaned forward. "I'm sorry, Bobby…" She decided on a direct approach. "They found her body in one of the buildings on the farm…"
Bobby turned his head away from her.
"It's not your fault, Bobby…You can't possibly think it was your fault…"
"I…I led him to her…I should've asked for…demanded…protection for her…" He spoke more to himself than to Alex.
"Bobby," Alex said firmly. She gently turned his face back to her. "WE didn't do everything…Social Services didn't…But none of us killed her…"
His eyes shone with pain. "She…She didn't even see anything…She wasn't a threat…"
"I know," Alex said sadly. She tenderly tucked the covers around him.
He slept fitfully, interrupted by doctors and nurses and disturbed by dreams. Some of the dreams were variations on old nightmares—visions of his mother and father, of a young Bobby Goren shivering in the cold and dark—while others were new, but just as terrifying—of the recently murdered women, of Angela Corelli, of Mrs. Czechowski, of Stabler lost in the bomb's debris, of Alex in the hands of Gregory Claret, and of an adult Bobby Goren shivering in the cold and dark.
He woke terrified from one of the dreams, and as he struggled out of the nightmare's grip, Bobby searched and called desperately for Alex.
"Easy, Goren," Stabler said. "You don't want to cause yourself any more pain than you've got…"
Bobby blinked. "Al…Eames?"
"Finally got her to take a break…She's in the waiting room getting some sleep on a couch…"
"Good…good…" Bobby murmured. He looked at Stabler; his face bore several cuts and bruised, and a small bandage covered his forehead. "How you doing?"
"A lot better since I started listening to the doctors and nurses," Stabler smiled. "I need to thank you…"
Bobby gave him a puzzled look. "What for?"
"Saving my life," Stabler answered gently.
Bobby's faced flushed. "It…I had to shove you to get you out of my way…"
"I remember it a little differently," Stabler said dryly. He sensed Goren's embarrassment and recalled that Eames had told him that Goren hated compliments almost more than criticisms. "But we both got knocked around, so our memories may be suspect."
"Yea," Bobby said, relieved that Stabler wasn't pushing the issue.
"I do know," Stabler said. "That you did and said the right things for Angela Corelli…"
Bobby shivered; the sight of Angela Corelli bound to the table in that cold, terrible basement would haunt him for a long time.
"You ok?" Stabler asked.
"Yea…just…just…You have a tough job, Stabler," Bobby said. "I…I think I understand a little why you get so angry at the perps…"
Stabler considered Goren's words. The detective had a reputation as a master manipulator, but Stabler sensed no machinations behind his statements.
"Yea," Stabler said. "It can help…or it can blind you."
Bobby was one step ahead of Stabler. "It's ok…I would've suspected me, if the places were reversed…And I've been known to find evidence where I'm not supposed to…"
"You're generous," Stabler said. "I'm not sure…if the places were reversed…that I'd be as forgiving…It's just I wanted to get this guy so badly…"
"I understand that," Bobby said. "Sometimes…our cases…trying to figure out the perps…I can get so far in their heads…" He smiled. "But Eames keeps me on track…"
Stabler smiled as well. "Yea, I've seen how you two work together…Olivia and I have that most of the time…If I'd just talked things over with her, I would never have pulled that stunt…"
"And some guys thinks women are too emotional to be cops," Bobby said wryly.
"They should see us," Stabler grinned.
"Hey," Bobby said. "Look at that…We just had another civil conversation…" He yawned.
"Get some sleep," Stabler said gently.
Bobby ignored him. "How's the investigation?"
Stabler decided not to fight him. "I don't know a lot…only what I've heard from Cragen and Olivia…They're searching for Claret…Munch found out…" He paused, uncertain of how this news would affect Goren. "Claret's mother was diagnosed as schizophrenic when he was a kid…She probably physically abused him…His father wasn't around much…The family tried to sweep it under the rug…"
Bobby stared at the window. "Anything else?" he asked in a flat voice.
"Another homeless woman…a friend of Mrs. Czechowski…Saw her getting into a car the day her social worker lost track of her." Stabler studied Bobby. "That wasn't your fault, Goren…You did everything you could…We can't lock up potential witnesses…Especially if they haven't seen anything…"
"I know." Bobby roused from his black study. "Stabler, is Huang around?"
"I think so," Stabler said.
"I'd like to run something by him." Bobby's uninjured left hand started to punctuate his comments. "Claret doesn't like loose ends…He likes to show how much smarter he is than the police…"
Stabler followed Bobby's thoughts. "Right…so…"
"Angela Corelli is another loose end…One the police took from him…"
"But she's in the hospital…surrounded by cops," Stabler said.
"It's not logical," Bobby agreed. "But we're not dealing with a necessarily logical mind…And he thinks he knows police procedure…It might be the ultimate game…the ultimate thrill…for him."
Stabler nodded; he winced as he stood. "I'll find Huang and Cragen…run this by them…" He paused at the door. "You know, Goren," he said admiringly. "Even with a concussion, you've still get one of the best…if not the best…brains in the Department.
END Chapter 12