Nope, they're not mine, just borrowing these wonderful characters!

Many, many thanks to my proof-reader. This chapter was a big job!

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5 Re-alization

As night time fell, the lights were lowered in the ICU. The nurses came and went checking Goren visually and insuring the oxygen was flowing and all the monitors, as well as the IV pump, were working. His temperature had dropped close to normal so the ice was removed, but the fan continued to blow across him. Alex had noticed the reduction in the heat radiating from him the last few times she'd applied the ointment. This had to be a good sign. He was always hot. She often could feel the heat radiating from him as she stood beside him when they were working. He was a magnificent wind break! She never needed the heat up on High when they were together in the car and it wasn't fair how he would heat up even more after a meal. If only she could burn calories that efficiently. In spite of herself, she began to smile. She'd make sure she told him how annoying it was when he woke up. Her smile crashed.

But he wasn't waking. More blood drawn. What were they looking for? Why weren't they telling her anything? What happened inside Tates? Had the hospital contacted the Tates Infirmary? So many questions and no answers. She knew she had to stay away from Tates, the situation was far too sensitive to barge in and start demanding answers. Any misstep could throw Donny into danger. And she couldn't leave here. She did not know of Donny's escape...

This afternoon they had applied antibiotic cream and light bandages to Goren's cuts and the raw skin on his wrists and ankles. His feet were no longer elevated, and they'd raised the head of his bed.

Alex pushed off her blanket and stood up. It was getting late. She should phone the Captain for an update or he'd be phoning her. She wanted to be prepared when she talked to him, not taken off guard. She'd keep it short. She wasn't ready to hear the fallout from Goren's unauthorized entry into Tates and her part in the plan. Surely he wouldn't get started on it with Bobby in this condition.

As Alex left the room to make her call, she paused to look over her shoulder at Bobby's still form. Her lips compressed and she turned and walked to the elevator hallway which was relatively private.

"Yes Eames. How is he?" Ross asked as soon as he answered the phone.

"There isn't much change. He's cooled down a lot, but he's still unconscious. It will be the morning before I know anything more. I'll phone when I can tell you something definite." Hopefully that would stop him from phoning her…

"That's fine. Do you need anything?

"No. Thank you, sir"

"I'll be expecting your call. Look after yourself."

And that was it. Conversation over. She didn't know what to think. No, she wasn't going to start fretting over the repercussions from this mess. If things didn't turn around soon, there might never be any repercussions… She'd better get back.

When she returned to Bobby's room, she walked over to the side of his bed and looked down at him. He hadn't moved while she was away. She sighed her disappointment and reached out her hand to rub her pinky finger over his bottom lip. There was no need for another treatment just yet. She resumed her nightwatch from her chair.

Beep… beep… beep…

As they did their rounds, the nurses would gently smile their reassuring nurse-smiles at her blanket-wrapped figure and ask how she was doing. She repeated "Fine, thanks" each time. She watched their faces carefully for any sign that things were looking worse. But they merely jotted notes on Goren's chart and slipped quietly out of the room.

The ICU became even quieter as the night stretched on. Family members of other critically ill patients wandered down the hallways seeking relief from bedside vigils. At one point she heard a sharp cry of anguish from another room and she froze where she sat, icy fingers of fear creeping around her body. She felt her face go cold again and pulled the blanket more tightly around her.

Beep… beep… beep…

Bobby's chest gently rose and fell. The clock ticked and the monitors beeped their rhythm and minutes became hours and he did not stir.

"Mrs. Goren?" Alex jumped in her chair as the nurse touched her shoulder.

"No." replied Alex.

"It's all right, I'm sorry I startled you. He's fine. I'm Faith, your night nurse. Would you like me to bring in a cot for you?"

"No, no, I'm fine. I guess I nodded off. Please call me Alex."

Faith moved to the sink and began filling a basin with lukewarm water and a wash cloth. "I thought you'd like to clean him up bit. He's had a hard time and I know this will make him feel better. And you, too. Once you've done that we'll put a gown on him."

Oh, boy. Well, that's what you get for being here under false pretenses…

Faith placed the basin on the bedside cabinet along with a wash cloth saying "I'll be right back" and left the room. Wait! Isn't this what they pay you the big bucks for?

Alex raised her eyebrows and pushed back the blanket. She stood, and in one smooth motion dropped her shoulders back and slid off the jacket she'd been wearing since she and Ross had left Major Case yesterday. Yesterday or the day before? Yes, it was the day before. The clock had shifted past midnight. Without her jacket on, her belt showed, complete with handcuffs and gun. Oh, great, how many wives or domestic partners carried concealed weapons? And she began to giggle. It ended as abruptly as it started. Alex Eames did not giggle. The giggle didn't last long, but it had her shaking with nervous exhaustion. She supposed she should find a locker where she could safely stow her gun. She would ask. She was developing a bruise where it hit her as she curled in the chair hour after hour.

Alex placed a hand on either side of the wash basin, leaned over it and dropped her head to her chest. She blew out a huge breath threaded with fatigue that seemed to come from her core. She straightened, tossed her hair back, submerged the wash cloth into the basin of warm water and added a bit of soap.

Where to start? She began with his high forehead, so uncharacteristically motionless. She carefully wiped away the layers of sweat accumulated before the heat stroke had overtaken him. Rinsing and wringing, she methodically continued her job. She swept down his small nose and across his broad cheeks. She gently wiped each closed eye. Those long eyelashes up close... She bet they would give wonderful butterfly kisses as they fluttered across your skin….

Alex ran the cloth over his ears and down around his neck, concentrating fiercely on the business at hand. He didn't move. She guided the cloth over his exposed shoulder and down his left arm to his fingertips, then washed his hand carefully, avoiding the bandages on his wrist. She wiped down each of his fingers and repositioned the cross in his palm. She held his large hand in both of hers, looking at it thoughtfully.

Normally, when his hands weren't in his pockets or buried in crossed arms, they were in constant motion, pointing, waving or writing in his binder. They were an extension of his mental thought processes and accented every significant point he would make, whether drilling a finger into someone's chest, distracting an interviewee by waving his hands, picking up prized possession in a home where they were conducting an interview, or helping an elderly lady down a flight of stairs.

But they were motionless now. And it was so wrong.

Alex moved the basin to the other side of the bed and repeated her duties. Lastly she ran the wash cloth across his chest just down to where the sheet covered him.

Faith returned with some shampoo and together they washed his hair and beard. His head was heavy. Faith handed her another towel and stood on the other side of the bed as she dried Bobby's head.

"Are you all right, dear?" she asked as she watched Alex. Alex just looked up at her and nodded briefly, wondering what had prompted her to ask. She wasn't going to embarrass herself by almost fainting again. She was afraid the astute nurse may have seen more in her expression than Alex had intended. "We'll finish this job in the morning", said Faith.

Alex had certainly had enough. She had nearly come undone while cradling Bobby's head against her shoulder with one hand, her cheek to his forehead as she washed the back of his head. She had always assumed his hair must feel wiry, but it was beautifully soft, as was his skin.

She and Bobby had been so close for so many years, yet had no physical contact. The emotional tumult she was feeling, coupled with the physical touch, had her on sensory overload. Although she had dreaded this intimacy when she first realized Faith's intentions, Alex had been soothed by the task. And her brain? Well, it had checked out sometime in the last half hour. Her sharp worry eased as she tried to ease his suffering. Maybe she wasn't so useless.

The nurse had one last chore. She pulled a gown from the cart, checked the size, clucked a little negative sound at her first choice and rummaged around for another.
"This should do".

In one motion she pulled the sheet off Goren and with another practiced move, covered him with the gown. Alex's eyes had been glued on Bobby's face and she'd turned off her peripheral vision as the sheet flew in the air. She wasn't ready for that much intimacy. Chicken. She snarked at herself.

As the nurse worked on his right side, Alex carefully manoeuvred the gown under Bobby's left arm and did up the snaps over his shoulder. Faith worked skilfully around all the wires and IV. They re-covered him with the sheet and Faith rechecked the instrument connections while Alex cleaned up the basin, cloths and towels.

Beep… beep… beep…

And here we are. What now?

The hospital staff were not telling her much. Just that they were reporting regularly to Goren's doctor. Finally Alex cornered Faith and peppered her with questions. What would happen if his kidneys didn't work? What were the possibilities of permanent damage? Why wasn't he waking up? How was his heart handling the stress? What had the blood work shown? What medication had they given him earlier? Did he need to be moved to a large hospital? She could make that happen….

Faith reassured her that it was a waiting game till morning and they were ready for any surprises that Mr. Goren's condition might present.

Frustrated with the lack of details, Alex returned to the ER where the security guard gave her access to their gun locker. She shoved her gun, holster and handcuffs into the locker and tucked the key away in her pocket. Her badge was in her jacket pocket. There, that felt a bit better. As she walked by the nursing station in the ICU they offered her the fruit bowl. She took an apple and felt even better as the food began to warm her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten.

Back in Bobby's room Alex repeated the ointment ritual yet again. She reached out and ran her fingers through his mostly dry hair, still bemused by its softness. Whew, she better not get used to doing this. What if he woke up and caught her? Hell, she'd live with it if he'd just wake up. But what she saw was frighteningly lifeless. She wished she hadn't eaten that apple….

How could this have happened? she questioned for what seemed like the thousandth time. What had taken place inside those prison walls? What had Goren done to warrant this? Anger began to swell in her as she thought of the warden at Tates. That woman knew and she allowed it to happen. She may well have been the cause of it. Power corrupts. And Alex knew all too well how women could become so twisted in their thinking that they were capable of actions as evil as any man. What sort of woman would thrill to know an innocent man was being tortured? Alex needed to stop torturing herself over things she could not fathom.

Beep… beep… beep…

When she first arrived at the hospital, she would rather have been anywhere than attending this bedside vigil. Now she wondered how she could have felt that way. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to an experience she didn't need repeating. Ever. She was staying right where she was, for as long as necessary. She would have gone crazy if anyone had tried to keep her away. No, she couldn't leave. And not because there was no one else for Bobby. Duty and obligation were not why she stayed.

Over the last few years Robert Goren had lost touch with his friends as the demands of his mother had escalated.

He'd been a good son.

Don't kid yourself, he'd been an amazing son. She remembered overhearing many phone calls when Frances would go on and on about something and Bobby would listen patiently, usually with his full attention, but sometimes fluidly multitasking. He always seemed to be able to placate his mother - until near the end.

If it hadn't been for Frank, Alex would never have met Frances Goren. God knows what Frank had said to Frances, but she'd demanded to meet Alex. Frances knew Bobby had a woman partner. So what had Frank seen in her during their brief meeting that suddenly moved Frances to need a meeting? Bobby had been so un-Bobby-like in the SUV the day he revealed the bombshell that his mother wanted to meet her. He was embarrassed and awkward, being pressured by a mother to whom, at this point, he was unable to say "No". His awkwardness had transferred to Alex and she wasn't sure how to respond. This uncharacteristic behaviour towards Alex on a personal level, had her deeply worried about how he was handling the very sensitive case in which they were involved. Frances had only days to live and Bobby was trying to cope with a continuous barrage of unsettling revelations, each one rearing up into a choke-hold, entwining his personal and professional life in the most profound ways possible. It became the week from Hell. And there was precious little time to spare.

But Alex had made the time. She wore her hair up the day she'd slipped up to Frances' hospital room. She was sure that would tip him off, but if Bobby knew, he had never let on. She took advantage of the fact that he was near his saturation point and wasn't as tuned in to her comings and goings as he normally was. She hadn't wanted him to know she was seeing Frances in case it turned into an unmitigated disaster.

Alex hadn't known what to expect when she met Frances Goren. For a woman only days from death, the tiny frail Frances, had delighted her with her witty views and sharply incisive comments. So this was the woman who Robert Goren loved and was needed by. And it made every bit of sense. Alex's biggest regret with Frances Goren was never having seen the interaction between mother and son. When Frances was lucid, it must have been wonderful. Then again. Two Gorens performing mental gymnastics in the same room might be a bit much.

Alex was happy she'd made the effort to meet Frances. She smiled now as she thought back. Frances recognized a good snark and dished out a few impressive ones of her own while Alex visited.

Alex's sardonic snarks had been honed when she worked in Vice. They fit well in that culture. Later, the mocking comments became part of her coping mechanism to dispel the tension that sometimes accompanied a complicated case.

Funny. Now she almost always snarked for him. She would watch from the corner of her eye to see if she could get him to react. It's so worth it when he turns away and tries to cover up that little smile, almost better than when he doesn't bother hiding the smile. Although the possibility of a rare dimple sighting was well worth the full frontal snark.

Bobby missed Frances terribly; her loss had left a huge hole in his life. Alex knew this was a large part of why they were here right now. In trying to fill that void Bobby had used incredibly bad judgment helping Frank. But Frank had given Bobby a purpose - a family purpose. Even though he hadn't known the existence of his nephew Donny until a few days ago, he had jumped at the opportunity to help. Bobby was needed again and his emotions were so sweetly transparent that Alex had been happy - and relieved. It was impossible to resist supporting him.

It had occurred to Alex that she should let Frank know what was going on here in the hospital. Alex rubbed her forehead at the hopeless though of even trying to find him. Oh, Bobby, how could you let Frank suck you into this so completely? How could she have let Frank suck her in? If only she had used her common sense, she could have put an end to it before it started. But could she have stood up to Robert Goren? She didn't know if he would have listened; she didn't know if she had the power to stop him with pleas and reason. There was no question in her mind that she could have stopped it one way or another, but at what cost to their partnership? Instead she'd chosen to be a willing participant and accomplice.

Bobby loved Frank and lived in hope that his relationship with his brother would be salvaged. It was no wonder Bobby had avoided sharing the details of his brother's life with her. She knew next to nothing about Frank until that unexpected meeting on the street outside the church soup kitchen. Alex had been unable to stop her jaw from dropping when she realized the tall hunched-over homeless scruff who kept staring intently at her was Bobby's brother. She should have recognized the familial intensity…

Ever since Frank had reappeared in Bobby's life Alex had to be there to pick up the pieces. Frank kept Bobby on an emotional rollercoaster. One day he'd be visibly relieved to know Frank's whereabouts and the next he'd be white as a sheet thinking his brother was lying dead in the morgue. Hours of sitting with a disappointed mother when Frank failed to show up, were compounded with the frustration of Frank visiting merely to determine the state of Frances finances. And then he didn't even show up for Frances' funeral.

Alex had been boiling with anger at Frank the day of the funeral and knew exactly what was happening when Bobby's eyes scanned the crowd at the church and gravesite. Her heart bled when she saw that. Although her family was no where near perfection, they were there for each other. She saw the faraway look on Bobby's face when she'd talk about her family and knew he wished a normal life for his own family. But Frank repeatedly left Bobby twisting in the wind. And now Frank had manipulated them both into finding out the truth about the Tates Correctional Facility in the hope of saving Donny. She'd tried to stay out of the middle when Frank pushed her there, but knew she would regret keeping anything from Bobby. All she could do was try to buffer the pain that Frank so easily tossed at his little brother. She hoped that just her presence would spread the impact of those blows.

In her flare of annoyance over Frank, she dug into her pocket, found an elastic band and yanked her hair up into a ponytail. One less thing to worry about. Perhaps anger was going to get her through this.

But when is he going to wake up? The flash of anger was gone as suddenly as it had come and was replaced by a deep gnawing fear and uncertainty.

Oh, Bobby, for God's sake, wake up! I've had enough.

Alex had sat by Joe's bed for two days as he died. It was obvious early on they could not save him and kept him alive only to find recipients for his organ donations. Those hours had seemed never-ending. She discovered her mask the day Joe died and she'd been shaping and thickening it ever since. She had never really recovered.

And here she was, nine years later, at Bobby's bedside.

He was so still. His breathing was so shallow she could hardly see his chest move. His kidneys were still not working. This can't be happening. Are they just leaving him here to die? Why can't they doing something? Anything. Anger flared again. Her eyes were burning from exhaustion. No amount of analysis or hard work could fix this now. Helpless. Useless.

Why had she allowed herself to become so caught up in the life of this man?

She could answer that easily. He wasn't just a man, he was an extraordinary man.

When they were first partnered, he drove her crazy for months, finally tipping her into submitting an official request for a new partner. She later thanked Jimmy Deakins for calming her and urging her to give it a bit longer. She had always wondered if Deakins suggested Goren ease up on his partner without divulging the reason for his request. Goren would have figured it out. He was always the smartest person in the room.

It had taken time, but Goren had slowly evolved from an aloof peacock who annoyed and frustrated her, to someone with whom she was pleased to work. She still couldn't believe she'd said he was an "acquired taste" on the damn witness stand for the whole world to hear.

Bit by bit over the years he had slowly revealed the true Robert Goren to her. He had his own mask. Unlike her rigid one, his was that of a chameleon. But there were some things he could not hide and she was lucky to be close enough to see those fundamental traits that left her in awe. When all was stripped away, Robert Goren had a huge capacity for empathy and compassion. She'd seen it most strongly in his dealings with children. No matter what their situation, children were drawn to him and he responded with warmth and kindness and affection. Those were traits someone just could not fake.

He had to have the truth at whatever cost to his personal psyche. Many times she'd seen a look in his eyes as they closed a case. It was the look of deep sadness when he broke someone to get to the truth and it was often coupled with a fleeting uncertainty that he'd done the right thing. You had to be right there to catch it, and as time went on, he stopped trying to hide it from her. He even deliberately sought her eye contact and her reassurance. She always gave it.

From him, Alex learned a greater understanding of human behaviour and not everything was as it seemed. And that included the sometimes bizarre techniques he employed to get information during an interview. She had come to delight in those unconventional methods. She could almost anticipate them.

He taught her fearlessness and that there was always a way to get what you needed. It was that philosophy that helped her remain calm as she continually improvised new escape plans during her abduction by Jo Gage.

Over time, he began to use her assistance more and more. His predatory dance was no longer his alone. They had become, in essence, dance partners in a game of hide and seek with the minds of society's most morally corrupt. Their dance required complete and absolute commitment and the intensity of their dance bonded them as nothing else could.

But her addiction to the dance was not what kept her coming back. It was more. He had given her so much in his subtle roundabout way. The single thing she treasured more than anything, that touched her so deeply, was that over time this amazing and unique individual had come to trust her enough to let her know what lay behind his mask. He told her with his eyes what his voice would or could not say. He struggled fiercely with how much to share, sometimes shutting her off completely. But he always came back.

He trusted her with his life and this is where it had led.

I'm so, so sorry, Bobby.

She gently placed her hand over his collarbone, her fingers almost touching the pulse in his throat. She closed her eyes and felt his warmth radiate up through her cold hand. She felt the rise and fall of his breathing.

Standing there so close beside him in the darkness, it started to overtake her with an unexpected stab of loneliness. It kept her thoughts half formed as they began blurring and tumbling over one another. She could not stop this unwelcome and uncontrollable torrent of emotion. The mask she depended on so much could not hold it back and splintered into a thousand pieces, vanishing into the night. As the blast hit her, her body bent like a windblown willow and she bowed over him. She hoped she wasn't speaking aloud. It wasn't to be shared:

We've been together so long and have gone through so much. We know each other so well. You complete my sentences and I yours. You complete my thoughts. You are my other half every day.

You never stop amazing me and I get up each day wondering what new things you will bring to it. You have taught me to see and think things I never dreamed I could. I am so lucky and honored you've shared your life with me.

And if you're gone…

Don't leave.

Don't leave. Me.

The haunting image of the sunken body of Jay Lowry pierced her. Would she be looking at Goren's body on M.E. Rodgers examining table in an autopsy room tomorrow morning? A huge single tear hit the gown covering Bobby's shoulder. And then another.

Oh, God!

And in the quiet of the darkened ICU, amongst the wires and tubes, Alex climbed into the bed beside her partner.