"Two weeks!" Bobby told Alex. "The trial is starting in two weeks." He sounded very tense.
"Wow, that's quick! Is Joe ready? What did he say?"
"He didn't. He just said in two weeks. He'll probably be in tomorrow with more details. God Eames! I don't know what to think about this. On the one hand, I want it to be over. My life's been so fucked up for the past five months I can't stand it. On the other hand, if it all goes wrong, my life is over!" He paced again, only slowly, then suddenly sat on the bed. "Christ! What am I going to do?"
Alex came over and stood next to him. She tried to settle him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "You're going to be fine, Bobby. You didn't kill Nicole. You know it, I know it, and soon the whole world will know it. There's no way they can convict you of this crime you did not commit."
Bobby looked up at Alex. "They do it all the time, Eames," he said quietly. "People get convicted of crimes they didn't commit all the time. You know that."
"But it's not going to happen to you! You have to have a little faith, Bobby. Faith in Joe, faith in the system."
Bobby was on his feet again. "Faith? The way things have been going for me? Well, fuck faith. The only thing I have faith in right now is that whoever pulled the strings to get me in this situation will also find a way to get me convicted."
"Bobby…" But he was too worked up, there was no settling or consoling him now. God damn it! She thought. Why did Joe have to call tonight? He won't sleep at all. "C'mon, Bobby, it's all right. Just settle down tonight, try to sleep, then you can talk to Joe tomorrow. I'll speak to the nurse, maybe you can get something to help you sleep."
That only made it worse. "Something for sleep! Something for pain! Something for nausea! I'm turning into a fucking drug addict! What's next? Something for—" He shoved the snack tray right off the table and into the trash with his injured arm, then yelped, doubling over in pain.
"Bobby! Please! Just…stop."
A few minutes later one of the night nurses came in. After giving Bobby hell for having his arm out of the sling, she checked him to ensure that he was, in fact, okay.
Turning to Alex, she informed her nicely that visiting hours were long over, and that she would have to leave, but she could come back early the next day. Alex agreed, then asked her about getting Bobby something for sleep. The nurse told her sleep medicine was on Bobby's list of meds to be taken as needed (the sleep pills just at night) "I'll bring him in some in just a few minutes." Then she took his vitals. After that, she said to Bobby: "Are you hungry? Would you like a snack before bed? Some more Jell-o?"
Eames quickly answered. "No! Uh, no, he's good."
The nurse looked surprised. "Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes with your sleep meds." Then she was out the door.
"You really do need to go, Eames," Bobby said, a little more calm now. "I appreciate what you're saying, and I know you're right. I'm just a little…scared, you know?" It was hard for him to admit that he was scared. Truth be known, he'd been scared for the last five months.
"I know, Bobby. It's okay that you're scared, anyone in your situation would be." God that sounded so cliché!
Bobby just looked at her. "Yeah, okay, see you tomorrow?"
Alex smiled and nodded. "See you tomorrow."
Even with the sleep and pain medicine, Bobby hardly slept. Finally he decided to get up and try to eat the Jell-o, then remembered he threw it away, and had refused any more. He laid back down, still trying to sleep, when the nausea came over him again, and he threw up violently.
After getting cleaned up and given more anti-nausea medicine, Bobby sat in the armchair in his room, his head and face pounding, his ribs hurting again with every breath. Not daring to lie down, which only made it worse, he sat for hours thinking about his upcoming trial.
The trial was now only two weeks away. His life had the possibility of changing dramatically in the next couple of months, and if it changed at all, it wouldn't be for the better. It would mean he'd be on the run, a warrant would be issued for his arrest. He'd be a fugitive, looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life. The stress alone would be exhausting; they would never give up looking for him. And his bondsman had put up a lot of money for his bail. If he took off, the bondsman could hire a bounty hunter to track him down. And that could be dangerous for both Bobby and the bounty hunter, cause Bobby would never allow himself to be captured. He'd do anything short of murder to remain free, but that didn't mean the bounty hunter would feel the same way. Bounty hunters would stop at nothing to get their man, and if all else fails, have been known to shoot.
Bobby had to force himself to settle down again. There was no way of knowing yet how the trial would turn out. He had to stop thinking like this. Still, it wouldn't hurt to make a few plans. And they had to be good. He definitely would not be the first man to jump bail, but he had to be one of the best.
He finally drifted off into another restless sleep.
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Alex was having her own problems trying to sleep. She was very disturbed about the thoughts she'd had earlier concerning her partner. She grew up in a cop family. She knew the rules. What the hell was wrong with her?
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Doctor Preston was in early the next morning. Looking at Bobby's chart, he frowned.
"Still can't keep anything down?"
Bobby shook his head.
"Does it happen only after you eat?
"No. It happens all the time."
Preston frowned again. "Are you allergic to anything? Food, medicines?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"What about when you were a kid? Any allergies, anything unusual?"
"No." After a moment he said, "Well, there was this one time…"
"What happened?"
Bobby gave his best imitation of a shrug. "Uh…my Dad bro…uh, took me to the hospital once when I broke my arm. It was broke pretty good, and kinda twisted, they fixed it and a day later sent me home with pain medicine. I kept throwing up, every day, all the time, and no one could figure out why. My father refused to take me back to the hospital, said it cost too much money. Told me I'd get over it eventually. And for a change he was right; it quit after about two weeks. I just got better."
The doctor listened for a moment, then said, "I want to try something. I think you're having a reaction to something, so we're going to start eliminating some things. First I'm going to change your pain medication to something without codeine. If that doesn't work, we'll try the antibiotic."
"At this point, I'm about ready to try anything."
One Police Plaza, eleventh floor
At work , Alex caught up with Carolyn in the ladies room.
"Hey, Carolyn, you got a minute?"
"Yeah, sure. Everything okay with Bobby?"
Alex sighed. "Well, there's nothing worse. He's still sick. But his trial is coming up, it's in two weeks now."
"Really? Bet that's freaking him out."
"I'm sure he didn't sleep at all last night. But there's something I need to ask you."
Carolyn waited.
Alex took a deep breath. "Did you ever, well, have any 'feelings' for any of your partners?"
"Feelings? What do you mean, feelings?"
"You know, like…I don't know. Like he's all you think about?"
Carolyn laughed, then stopped, seeing the look on Alex's face.
"Sorry, Alex. I would have thought you'd have had thoughts like that a long time ago. How long have you been together?"
"Six years." She was a little irritated. "But it's just been since he's been in the hospital. And he's my partner, for god's sake!"
"So what? Does that mean you can't look, or think? Hell, Alex, I was only here a couple of months, and I thought about it."
Alex looked surprised. "You think about…you and…Bobby?"
Carolyn didn't look the least bit ashamed. "He's a good looking guy, Alex. Doesn't mean I'd act on it, though."
"Have you ever had thoughts like that about your partner?"
"Mike? Nah, but only because he's not my type. But Bobby…"
I wish she'd stop saying that. Alex was beginning to wish she'd never brought the subject up.
"So don't worry about it, Alex. We all do it…I mean, think about it." This time, she did look a little embarrassed. "You know what I mean. You're probably just a little more stressed than normal and thoughts are popping in your head that normally wouldn't. But it's okay, Alex. Those thoughts are normal anyway."
"Okay. Thanks alot, Carolyn." At least my thoughts are normal. That's a relief. She really was relieved.
Mt. Sinai, that evening
Entering his room the next morning, she saw Bobby again struggling, using his right arm. You really had to feel for the guy. Here he was, a natural lefty, forced to use his injured right arm for everything when he shouldn't have been using it at all, because his left arm was more seriously injured, and his left hand was broken when he broke the guard's jaw. She still couldn't imagine how he'd manage on his own.
"So how's it going tonight?" she asked, startling him with her presence.
"Huh? Oh, great! They think they might have found out why I've been getting so sick."
"Well?"
"They think it might be a combination of the drugs I've been given, that I'm having a reaction to them. So they changed the pain meds, and so far, so good."
"That's great! Do you still think they'll let you go home tomorrow."
"Looks like it. God, Eames, I've never been so anxious for anything in my whole life!" His dark eyes shone, for the first time in five months, and Alex couldn't be any happier for him.
A thought occurred to her. No one had been in Bobby's apartment in five months. She thought it might be a good idea to check out his place tonight, and clean it. Because no matter how self-sufficient Bobby thought he was, there was no way on earth he could clean house with two dislocated shoulders. So tonight, she'd clean, and get it all ready for his homecoming.
"Oh, and Alex? If they should ask you, they probably won't, but if they do, I do have someone staying with me, okay?"
"Do you?"
"No, but they don't have to know that. I just don't want anything to screw this up."
Alex sighed. Why does he have to be so difficult? Against her better judgement, she agreed. "Okay, I guess. If they ask."
tbc