A/N: Been beat up by RL lately, so, rather than make everyone wait longer for the next chapter, I divided it and will continue the talk in the next chapter. The muse is spinning in circles over it, so we'll see what comes along. For those of you who wonder about Maggie's maturity, some of her characteristics are based on what I know from my own kids. Last week, I had a conversation with my 10-year-old (that's Katie) about William McKinley, and she told me "Oh, he was the 25th President." Then, last night, my 7-year-old (he's Josh) told me he wants a bank account so he can put his money in the bank and can save for a house and for his children's college and for a Wii. I wasn't worried about my college when I was seven. Kids...
Once she was cried out, she remained in his arms, pressed against his chest. He made no move to release her while she composed herself. When she finally sat back, he let her go. "My God, Bobby...what have we done to each other?"
"I don't know, but tell me how to fix it and I will."
"Some things can't be fixed," she said quietly.
He looked away, toward the floor. That was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. She moved closer and rested her hand on his leg. "Don't take that the wrong way," she said softly. "I don't want to be mad at you, but could you have handled this whole thing any worse? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I called Carmel Ridge at ten-thirty and they told me you left at eight." She felt frustration come boiling up along with the final vestiges of her anger. "No one told me about your mother! Carmel Ridge is an hour away. Even allowing time for you to stop for dinner, you should have been home. You didn't come home and you didn't call. It would have been bad enough if you had been alone, but Maggie was with you! I was worried sick and mad as hell. Finally, you call, at almost six the next morning, from Syracuse. Syracuse, Bobby! Your brain went on vacation and you drove more than two hundred miles out of your way! That's not a detour. That's not your mind wandering. You did the same thing after your last interview at Riker's with Nicole. Remember? Where the hell does your mind go?" She waved a hand impatiently. "No, don't tell me. I don't think I want to know. On top of everything else, you wrecked the car and Maggie was hurt. It could have been serious. I saw red. All I wanted to do was get Maggie and bring her home. I could not deal with you right then. God, Bobby. I have never been so mad at you. Never. This tops everything you've ever done. You were careless, thoughtless and reckless. I lost it. I have never been that angry."
She was shaking and he had no idea what to do. He had no defense for what he'd done and he wasn't inclined to try finding one. He had no excuses, no explanations. He looked down at his hands, and his eye caught the jagged laceration that trailed along the back of his arm. Seventeen stitches, he remembered. Then he looked at the new cast on his other arm. He was drawn from his reflection when her hand cupped his chin and guided his face back around to look at her. He sighed softly but said nothing.
"Syracuse, Bobby. Four hours. Where was your head?"
He cast his eyes downward, but said nothing.
"And then...and then...Maggie tells me that Gramma went to heaven. I heard about your mother's death from our five-year-old! Dammit, Bobby! You should have called me before you ever left Carmel Ridge, or let Maggie call me, or something! Anything!" Her shaking got worse. "Your mother died and you never thought to call me! God, what is wrong with you?"
Tears spilled over onto her cheeks again. She slipped off her shoes and turned on the couch so that her back was to him, drawing her legs up in front of her. She hugged her legs and pressed her forehead into her knees. With an effort, she calmed herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I am just so...I don't even know what I am." Slowly, she turned to look at him, and she saw more emotion in his face than she ever had. He was so overwhelmed by everything he didn't know what to feel, what to say or what to do, and for the first time since the accident, she let her heart go out to him. She pulled herself onto her knees and sat back on her heels. Gently, she took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. "I don't know the words to describe how much I love you, but I do, you big pain in the ass. I love you more than anyone in the world and if you ever do this to me again, I swear I will kill you."
She moved suddenly and pressed her mouth against his in a deep, hard kiss. After she pulled back, he slowly opened his eyes. Quietly, he said the only thing that would come to his mind. "I'm so sorry."
She sat back and folded her hands in her lap, sitting on her legs. The conversation they were about to enter was going to be a very difficult one, and she was determined not to let him retreat from it. She was done living in the shadows of his past. Everything would be brought to light now or she could not go on with him. She was his wife, his partner in life, or she wasn't. If he could not trust her completely, they had nothing. "We need to talk, and you need to level with me, about everything. I am your wife, and yet Logan knows you better. Sometimes, I think Maggie knows you better. It's time for you to come clean with me, Bobby."
He shifted restlessly, sensing what was coming. Was he willing to open up the way she was demanding? In spite of the distracting pain he was suffering, physical and emotional, he realized that he would have to, or he would lose her forever. He had a hard choice to make. Either he would have to answer her questions, all of them, with complete honesty, or he would have to let her go, once and for all.
Struggling to sound encouraging and not confrontational, she began with the events that had unfolded over the weekend. To emphasize her encouragement, she touched his hand, leaving it to him to hold it or not. He chose not, so she left her fingers resting against the back of his hand. "Tell me what happened Saturday. They never said anything about your mother being on her deathbed."
"It was...sudden. They didn't know, until after we got there."
"And...why didn't you call me? That's the one thing that has me the most baffled. Your mother was dying, and you didn't call me. Then she died, and you didn't call me. You wouldn't even let Maggie call me. I don't understand that at all."
How could he explain himself? He had no reason for not calling her beyond the fact that he had simply shut down. It had been a real struggle for him to deal with Maggie. He had nothing to give beyond that. He had not thought of calling her, and Maggie's pleas to let her do it had never really registered with him. "I...I suppose I was in denial...until it actually happened, and by then I was...I was in shock. I just...I shut down. That's all I can say."
"Your mind shut down so you got behind the wheel?"
"I was headed home. I swear I was. I pulled out of the lot at Carmel Ridge and the next thing I knew we were approaching Syracuse. I...I lost those four hours, Alex. I have no memory of any of it."
She remembered that he'd lost several hours after his final confrontation with Wallace at Rikers, but he hadn't left the city then. "Getting into the car and driving was the worst thing you could have done."
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are. And that's going to hit you every time you see Maggie hobbling around on her crutches."
He recoiled at the reminder, flinching visibly. "Are...are you sure...y-you still, uh, want me around? I mean...I broke Maggie...and..."
Reaching up, she moved to place her hand over his mouth, but again, he flinched. She leaned over so that she could see his face. "What is up with that? Bobby, I have never hit you. Why are you doing that?"
He truly did not know how to explain something he didn't understand himself. It was something he suspected came from his childhood, but he didn't know for sure. It had never come up before. "I...I don't know. I...the movement...it...it'll pass. I guess...my mother...I...I don't know..."
That gave her the opening she needed. "Did you know that I went out to see your mother on my own?"
He frowned. "No. When?"
"Several times. I...wanted to get to know the woman who was responsible for the man I married. Bobby, if I had seen pictures of you when you were little while I was married to Ricky, I would have know for certain that Maggie was not his. She looks just like you. You were an adorable baby. I can't believe you never saw it."
"Why would I look for it? I had no reason to believe she was mine, remember?"
She conceded that and went on. "You seemed like a happy little guy, but then...something happened to you. I don't think your mother ever saw it, but I did. You became...haunted. What caused that? What sent that happy little boy into hiding?"
He shook his head slowly. "You don't want to know, Alex."
Her eyes narrowed and flashed a warning. "Yes, I do. You have always shut me out of your past, but it made you who you are. I want to know how that came about."
He rubbed his temple and pressed his fingers into the soft spot beside his eye. He thought she was all right with him, never knowing the nightmare truth of his upbringing. He realized he could never do justice to the memories, but whatever he did say would be bad enough. It was easy for her to say it wouldn't matter. She didn't know. What now? He was trapped, and he felt his anxiety level increasing.
Alex remained removed from him, watching and waiting, to see if he would start talking. She watched him start to shift and she began to think he was going to shut down on her again. She honestly wasn't sure just what she would do if he did, but she made up her mind not to take it any more.
Distracted by his pain and the panic that was slowly building deep in his gut, Bobby struggled mightily to get a grip on himself. It was slowly dawning on him that this was it. This was his last chance to make everything right with his wife because she was not going to let him bury his head in the sand, next to his heart, any more. Once, he had told Nicole Wallace that she hid her heart in a bunker. Was he any better? He knew he was damaged, and Alex knew that, too, from the very start. Did she honestly think any sort of band-aid she could offer would fix the critical wounds he had been subjected to all his life? Didn't she realize that the damage was cumulative, and it was something she would never be able to fix, no matter how hard she tried? He loved his wife, but she was not God and she could not heal him. No one could. Now, once and for all, it was time for her to realize that. Would she still want him around once she knew the extent of the damage? He had to face reality for once, and he could not believe that she would. If his own mother didn't want him, how could she? His luck had run its course and now he was at the end of the line.
Alex watched the storm of emotion play across Bobby's face, and she knew the exact moment he reached his decision. She did not like the look on his face. It was one of surrender, of defeat. Total defeat. Her eyes filled with tears, but she forced them back and continued to wait for him to talk, praying to every deity she knew that he would.
His head was pounding and he felt sick to his stomach, but he swallowed the bile at the back of his throat and said, "Be specific, Eames. What do you want to know?"
His tone was remote, detached. He had given up the fight and surrendered his soul. What happened from here on out was beyond his control. Everything was now up to her.