Chapter Eleven

Bobby on the Mend

Alex has driven over the bridge and into Manhattan before she realizes, "Where the hell am I going?" Checking the street signs, "I'm three blocks from Marcy's," she shrugs her shoulders.

Once inside her friends' apartment Alex heads for the bathroom, during the drive home her thoughts were of Jonathan, Jonathan the one who is responsible for all this, "Burn in hell! You sick, you sick son of a bitch!" She screams the words in the hope that they will relieve the pain inside, "Fry, you little prick! I think you're too evil for hell!" her tirade ends as she shreds off her clothes and steps into the shower. A feeling of grief overwhelms her. She slowly slides down to the shower floor, sitting with her knees up, water streaming down on top of her, she begins to cry.

Later that Evening

Her cell phone has been ringing and she ignores the calls, she later checks her voice mail, Laurie, her mother and then her brother. As she is staring at the phone, it rings and it startles her, she drops it on the floor. "Shit." Upon picking it up she is hoping that it is Bobby, she checks the number, her sister. "Yes Laurie I'm at Marcy's I know I said I'd stay with you but I changed my mind. I will talk to you tomorrow, promise. I need to lie down."

"Ok Alex I'll keep you to your word."

"Laurie I'm fine." Click.

Laurie hangs up her phone, "No your not, my God Alex you are more stubborn than Dad."

She finds a bottle of chardonnay in the refrigerator and pours herself a glass. Taking the glass with her into the living room, she clicks on the TV. She props up the pillows uses her friends quilt and sit with her legs up on the couch.

Friday Morning

Alex wakes to the sound of the television that she left on all on night, a faint smile crosses her face. "Thank God that night is over." No dreams, it's hard to dream when you don't sleep. She makes herself a cup of tea. No breakfast again this morning, her appetite has diminished.

Doctor Vincent's Office

Friday Morning

"Bobby are you ready for tomorrow?"

"I suppose, I called my Mom yesterday afternoon, told her that I came down with the flu. She believed me." He takes the spot next to the bookshelf once again, scanning the titles. "You know I did a great deal of thinking last night, about my Dad. Whether or not I realized it before or just didn't want to admit it I'm a lot like him."

"How are you like him?"

"He was a talker, could charm people into believing anything he said." He removes a book and skims through it. "In a way I do that, I lie to people. I've gotten people to admit to things that they thought they never would." He roughly returns the book to its spot on the shelf. "Except Jonathan," he turns to look out the window. "I just sat there."

"You believe that if you said the wrong thing that he would hurt Alex."

"Yes I know but….I couldn't help her. I wanted to…"

"Bobby what were you suppose to do, huh? Turn into Superman and break through the handcuffs."

"No," he smirks, "I know that. Damnit, I should have known. I should have known that Jonathan was going to go after her," he says excitedly.

"Oh so now you're psychic."

"It was the way he looked at her in the interrogation room; he never took his eyes off of her." He takes the seat next to the doctor, "Jonathan knew that he scared her and he loved it. Not only was Alex a woman she was a cop and a person of authority, his dream come true." He makes a fist and hits the arm of the chair, "You know when we checked him out, he's a genius. He not only read books, he devoured them, Forensics, psychology." He points to the doctor, "He would probably fool you."

"Is that what's bothering you?"

"Huh?"

"You said that you have the ability of talking to people and getting them to confess, is that what's bothering you? That you failed with Jonathan."

"We lost our star witness, but we all knew he was guilty but the DA decided to drop the charges and let him free."

The doctor stands and positions himself in front of him, "Come on be honest with yourself. You think that if you would have been able to talk to him at the station maybe then you would have deflated his attention on Alex and then…."

"No!" he screams, he stands and the doctor has to look up. He nods his head, "Yes, yes alright!"

"You are not responsible for what happened."

He mumbles, "Yeah, sure."

He slumps down in the chair. Placing his elbows on his thighs and holding his head. "My God what she must have thought when I zoned out." He sits back in the chair purposing avoiding the doctor's gaze. "Let's see what adjectives can I find to describe how I reacted…Coward, weakling." He rubs his chin, "I'll be known as the partner who crumbled under pressure while my female partner," he raises his voice, "saved my ass!"

"You reaction was from a traumatic event and the feelings and emotions that you felt when you were eight came back, the helplessness, fear and even the numbness in your legs from not being able to move."

"You don't have much experience with cops, do you?"

"What does that have to do with…."

"Maybe it's time to quit."

The doctor checks the time, "Quit you've only been here twenty minutes."

"What? No not this," he shakes his head. "The force."

"Jesus why?"

"Oh come on man, don't be…." He stretches out his arms as he stands, "Look where I am."

"Oh and you are the only cop who's needed some psychological help in the history of the NYPD."

Bobby waves him off, "You don't understand."

"Maybe I don't," he crosses his legs. "Tell me."

Bobby turns abruptly and it startles Vincent, "Call the Chief of Detectives and ask him what he thinks of me?"

"I'd rather you tell me."

"I don't play by their rules and that annoys him, them, and everyone!" He runs his fingers through his hair. "Its better this way, Monday I'll resign. Everyone will be happy all around."

"What about Alex?"

"What about her?"

Vincent raises his eyebrows, "Don't you think you should discuss this with her?"

"Why? It's my decision it has nothing to do with her."

"Yes it does," he grabs his arm. "She's been here everyday wanting to see you."

"She's just being….No; no it's better my way. Lets her off the hook. This way she doesn't have to lie and say it doesn't matter. I don't need that crap."

"I was under the impression that you thought highly of her."

"She's just my partner, that's all." Stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walks toward the window, "Besides she doesn't need me, she has her family."

"That's where you're wrong."

"You don't know the Eames family, her Dad was a cop. I can imagine what he thinks of all this. His daughter having to….."

"You have to stop imagining what people are thinking, Bobby. If you are that interested, I suggest that you talk to her."

Never turning away from the window he says, "I was just wondering, honestly I really don't care what people are thinking."

"Keep saying that," the doctor walks up next to him. "And maybe then you will convince yourself that you don't care what," he pauses. "Alex thinks."

Bobby turns heading for the door, "I'm gonna go lie down," he opens the door. "Maybe I'll see you later."

"Think about what I said." The doctor says as the door closes.

Friday Afternoon

One Police Plaza

Alex offered to help do some research, Logan and Fallaci's latest case. She remains at the station for five hours; she makes a decision to visit the hospital again. However, this time she has a plan.

St. John's Hospital

As she walks up to the reception desk, she holds up her gold shield, "Good afternoon, I'm Detective Eames and I am here to interview a victim of an assault, Robert Goren."

A quick click on the computer, the older man looks up, a twinge of nervousness creeps in, she stands firm. "Room 354," he points to the left, "The elevator is right down this hall."

She nods, "Thank you." Why didn't I think of that, days ago, she giggles silently. The elevator doors open to the third floor, 100 yards down the hall and she comes upon room 354. She stands rigidly staring at the door. Taking a deep breathe she pushes the door open.

TBC