There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.
~Washington Irving

8. Re-hydrate

The sound of chattering women rouse him. Well, one was chattering, the other voice was calmer more measured. Their voices came to him muffled, as though their mouths were full of cotton batting. His eyes opened. It hurt. He blinked rapidly, fighting the pain that encased his whole head. It was brighter now. The room, the smells, the sounds all began to focus. The voices belonged to two nurses working in his room. Confirmation he was in a hospital.

"Well, Mr. Goren, how are you this morning? Feeling better?" The chatty younger voice chirped at him. He blinked several more times clearing his eyes and frowned. He began to open his mouth to speak and stopped immediately. The pain that tore through his lips wasn't worth the answer to the question he was about to ask. It appeared she really didn't expect an answer anyway, as she went right on chattering.

His eyes followed the nurse's motions as she moved from one side of his bed to the other. She continued her cheery patter of one-sided conversation as she raised the head of his bed higher so he was almost sitting up.

"Mrs. Goren stepped out to the powder room for a few minutes. She'll be right back. She'll be relieved to know you're awake. She doesn't say much, does she? But we know you gave her quite a scare. I'll bring you some water and ice chips and we'll get you started with those."

And she was gone.

He normally had no difficulty processing simple conversation, but he found it necessary to mentally rerun everything the nurse had said. The only part he was clear about was the water and ice chips.

The other nurse was not the chattering type. She moved quietly, checking his monitors. As he became more aware of his surroundings, the pieces began falling into place. He was sure Eames had been here. Hadn't she? Tates. Yes, he'd been in Tates and now he was out. But about this hospital? What had happened? How did he get out of Tates? He carefully opened his mouth and tried to speak to the nurse, but only a croak came out.

"Just stay quiet, Mr. Goren. I'm Faith, I've been with you and your partner all night. I'm just finishing up and then I'll be leaving you with Jane. You're looking much better today."

In spite of his rough shape, Faith noted what gentle brown eyes he had. It was hard to believe this man was a police officer. But then she usually saw people at their most vulnerable. She was looking forward to Alex's return to see the interaction between these two. She was sure that those eyes must be one of the things that attracted his partner. And Alex surely was attracted.

Faith picked up his left hand and felt for his pulse. Goren looked down at her hand on his wrist and he saw the gold chain wrapped around his fingers. Faith removed her hand and watched him. Robert Goren rolled his wrist and opened his hand to reveal the tiny gold cross nestled in his palm. As his teeth clenched, Faith watched his eyebrows come together in a worried frown and the muscles in his jaw flex. She heard his sudden shocked exhale and his breathing accelerate. Faith had not needed to check his pulse, he had a heart monitor on, but she wanted to draw his attention to Alex's cross to see his reaction. This was by far a much stronger reaction than she had expected.

Goren swallowed hard as he stared at Eames' cross wound so carefully around his fingers, feeling pain radiate up through his neck and ears, but hardly noticing. Oh, God, Eames, where are you? Have you finally realized I gave this to you and you're giving it back? Have you finally had enough and left?

His eyes flicked upward scanning the room. The frown was gone and replaced by a look that was close to fear. Faith realized that she'd made a terrible mistake. The patient's heart rate was rising quickly and the air was filling with urgent beeps. What was the significance of this cross?

Goren began to sit up, and Faith reached out to hold his shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He was well on his way to pushing through her when he caught sight of Eames coming through the doorway. Faith was relieved, as she knew she would be unable to stop his forward momentum. Goren relaxed against her hands, leaning back just as he was close to tearing off his monitor leads and ripping out the IV.

Alex quietly rounded the corner into the room with both arms raised and head lowered as she re-gathered her pony tail. She was shuffling along in stocking feet, wearing a white tank top and her low rise jeans topped by her thick leather belt. She moved like a teenager and looked like one, too, except she had curves that would distract a saint. She was beautifully proportioned, and he enjoyed watching her move when he was sure she wasn't paying attention. He regularly practiced his peripheral vision skills on her and especially like the jeans with the little pocket flaps which drew his eyes down when she walked away. Nice. Right now, her face was shiny from a fresh scrubbing and he could see small rolled flecks of paper towel stuck to the skin of her arm. She'd had a bird bath.

Eames! Relief flooded through him and the icy feeling he'd felt as the blood drained from his face was replaced by a heat raging swiftly up through his torso leaving him feeling weak and ill. What the hell was the matter with him? He felt like crap. He fell back on the bed.

So this must be the inscrutable Mrs. Goren he'd heard some mention of. He began to speak and then croaked his discomfort as his lips cracked and began to bleed. He reached up to cover his lips and hit his face with the oximeter, still clamped to his index finger.

Suddenly she was standing beside him, smiling one of her breathtaking smiles. She didn't take those out of her arsenal very often. It was one of those smiles that lit up her eyes, crinkling them at the corners, turning them into happy crescents over fresh apple-scrubbed cheeks. Simple joy pulled her mouth open flashing bright even teeth bracketed by seldom seen and perfectly placed laugh lines. This smile was a perfect 10 and even in his condition he could appreciate it. Wow. For me? Just as panic at her absence had him needing to be in motion, now her presence – and that smile – stopped him dead.

She hadn't given up on him.

Wearily, he rolled his head on the pillow towards her. Alex stood close with her arms folded on the guard rail of his bed. She smelled mostly of hospital soap and industrial paper towel. He looked up at her. Usually the only time she was above him was when she leaned on his desk to see his computer monitor.

As she shuffled into the hospital room, she had noticed the heart monitor's rapid cries and had looked up just in time to see him hit himself with the oximeter. There was no possibility of stifling the excited smile that instantly tugged up the corners of her lips when she saw he was awake and moving.

"You look like you've been on the binge to end all binges." she quipped, taking note of his badly bloodshot eyes. "You're going to bleed to death through those eyeballs."

Alex could not stop smiling her happiness until the urgency and distress in his face locked their eyes. What was the matter? This was more than a reaction to his physical condition. What had happened in Tates? Whatever it was, it had a profound effect on him and was showing already. The heart monitor which had been beeping so frantically when she came in was now slowing down. He's just now realizing he's no longer in Tates, she thought.

Goren knew as soon as she spoke that this was no dream. This was Eames. He began to reach out to touch her and then stopped. When their eyes met, her spectacular smile wavered and fell away. Awww, he thought, did I ruin that? His panic was over knowing she was here and his mind was not playing tricks on him. Now the shot of adrenalin he'd just experienced was ebbing and he felt exhaustion hammering at him. He needed to hang on for a few minutes….

Alex, taken off guard, didn't know what to say, so she instinctively soothed. "Hey. Take it easy. How do you feel?" Instinctive actions she had towards Goren were usually kept tightly wrapped.

He just looked at her dully. She was instantly reminded of the look he had given her when they left Ray Wiznesky's place. It was exhaustion and despair. That day at the coast, Goren had been amazing as he performed his psychological dance around the unstable Wiznesky, managing to save her and reason himself out of a possibly lethal situation. He had prevented a suicide, as well. Except all the skilfully improvised steps Goren had taken were smashed in the blink of an eye, by the actions of Wiznesky's own uniformed colleagues. Both she and Bobby suffered a similar horror as they saw the faces of the daughter and terminally ill wife as they witnessed the aftermath of the suicide. Although he could not have anticipated the outcome, Goren would still beat himself up over it; he should have seen it coming. He always felt responsible.

Alex had stopped the SUV a few miles away from Wiznesky's, near a seawall. They walked silently until his step took on more purpose and his shoulders straightened as he regained emotional equilibrium. She had offered a short detour to see his Mom at Carmel Ridge, but he merely shook his head. Not today. This was a side of Robert Goren she knew was there, but had never been permitted to see so openly.

It was that same look she saw now on Goren's haggard face. His expression that day reflected his overwhelming feeling of despair at his failure. Alex swallowed hard. Not only was he showing his feelings, he was sharing them with her. They lay undisguised on his face.

"Bobby, do you know where you are?" Alex asked. Faith stepped in at that point, feeling guilty that she had set up something that had caused her patient anxiety. She had no idea of the complexity of their relationship and the symbolism behind that minute gold icon. "I think it will be a few hours before he's able to talk Alex", she said reassuringly. Alex nodded, then looked back to Goren.

"You're in the Truby hospital, Bobby. The captain and I came up when you didn't check in. The warden at Tates released you and you were brought by ambulance to the hospital." Alex paused, trying to give him a minute to digest the information. "Don't over-think this right now Bobby. We'll talk about it when you can. Don't worry about Donny - I'll call the Captain in a little while to see what I can find out. They're probably in damage control at Tates over you. You just need to concentrate on getting better. And you need to stop worrying, we'll figure this out."

It was a huge amount of information to give to him so soon after regaining consciousness, but Alex knew all too quickly he would start putting things together and she wanted to circumvent any sudden action he might feel the need to take.

Goren watched her intently as she spoke, his focus shifting back and forth from her left eye to her right as he tried to take in everything she said. His expression had changed from that of despair to an expression Alex couldn't read.

She wanted to lighten the mood and distract him. This ought to do it. She adopted the stern version of her Aunty Alex voice. "Look at me" she commanded, "And don't move". She frowned as she saw the fresh blood seeping from the cracks in his lips.

"What have you done to your lips? You're wrecking my hard work!" she tried to tease. The ointment she had been applying was the only thing that kept large pieces of skin in place. With any luck, she could keep this next application of ointment matter-of-fact and take him off-guard. She was worried. Even on relaxed days when he sat very quietly, she knew his mind was working. Not much could turn it off and until he could talk, he would be keeping his thoughts bottled up. She was going to do her best to keep him communicating this time. Nag him, if she must. Nothing annoyed her more than when he shut her out. And she had never figured out what triggered that disconnection. As long as he would look her in the eye, they were usually okay.

He watched her open the tube of ointment and squeeze the contents onto her finger, dully wondering what she was going to do with it. He was fading fast. But as she reached out to touch him, he pulled his head back in surprise. Her eyebrows knit together more tightly and her lips pursed as she attempted to complete the task at hand.

"I said don't move Detective!" She gripped his jaw from underneath his chin, holding him still as she gently applied the ointment. She refused to meet his look with their faces so close. Eyebrows knit, she concentrated completely on his lips and the job to be done. The nerves of steel that allowed her to do her job so well were not standing up to the intimacy of this contact or his fiercely intense stare as he challenged her to look at him. You bastard, Bobby! Better get this over with fast. As she carefully smoothed the ointment over his bottom lip, it twitched. Then his right eyebrow slowly raised. He was trying not to smile.

"Shut up Goren!" she whispered at him without wavering her focus. Shifting her approach and surprising even herself, she half closed her eyes and slowed her finger movements down to a slow sensual rub. Bottom lip, middle to corner, back to the middle, out to the other corner. Her lips parted. Two could play at this game…. The second eyebrow raised to match the elevation of the first. Obviously her plan of distracting him was working. His eyes continued to bore into her, but he hadn't reached out to stop her.

"Finished!" she said with mock satisfaction mixed with disguised relief. She hoped he couldn't hear that relief in her voice. She turned quickly away from him to replace the lid on the ointment, a huge smile spreading across her face. Although she was un-nerved by the closeness, she was pleased that he was reacting as he might under normal circumstances and at the same time fearful that he would know how rattled she was. Without even thinking, Alex was rebuilding her mask. Goren didn't need to know what she was thinking or feeling. He wouldn't care anyway.

Faith had been closely watching the interaction between the partners and she was awestruck by the communication they shared with not a single word uttered. Alex verbally teased and cajoled, but at the same time she watched Mr. Goren with sharp eyes. Alex's composure had changed completely from the frightened woman Faith had witnessed only a few hours before. Alex was now under control and Faith was amazed how completely Alex hid her true feelings in front of him. She'd obviously been practicing and perfecting her technique for a long time. Faith had watched a distraught Alex wind the chain of her necklace around his fingers, a simple gesture filled with such deep caring. Why would you ever want to hide that kind of caring? Faith smiled to herself and would have liked have pointed out: But Alex, if you are hiding your feelings from him, isn't this cross, now in his hand, going to give you away? Faith was dying to see what transpired between them over that tiny cross….

Her patient had panicked when he saw Alex's gold cross in his hand, but had calmed immediately upon seeing his partner enter the room. Faith watched those eyes of his speak volumes. She had no idea what they were saying. But Alex knew and seemed to be tuned into his every expression. What a pity her shift was over and couldn't stay to watch. Oh, to be a fly on the wall!

With regret, Faith said "I'm leaving you now. I'll see you this evening, if you are still here. I hope you're feeling much better Mr. Goren."

Turning to Alex, she said, "It's been a pleasure, Alex." Faith answered Alex's wary gaze with an expression which was both knowing and reassuring. The shattering of Alex's mask was safe with her. "Thank you", Alex murmured as Faith passed her to leave.

The young nurse, Jane, who was so accomplished at one-sided conversation, swished into the room carrying a tray laden with a pitcher of water coated in condensation, a cup of ice chips, a bent straw and an empty cup.

"Here you go! Let's get as much into you as you can take."

Turning to Alex, she chirped "Have you noticed how well he's doing this morning?" and she proudly and enthusiastically held up a very full bag of urine from the side of the bed. Alex raised her eyebrows, giving a plastic smile of approval followed by an exaggerated lifting of her chin in acknowledgement. Oh, please!

"Dr. Knowland should be in soon, Mr. Goren. He'll be happy to see you doing so much better. We should be able to remove your catheter soon. I'm sure you'll be glad about that."

Goren, alternately shocked by the closeness of Eames's ministrations and then assaulted by the verbal barrage of the young nurse, was wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. Instead he silently winced and began to turn red… As he watched Eames' reaction from the corner of his eye, her expression brought back a strong memory of the time he'd held the astronaut diapers up in front of her. He had swung them a bit closer to her face than he intended. Sorry Eames.

Jane continued. "Mrs. Goren, the ice machine is the other side of the nurse's station if you need more. We're all ready for the doctor's visit. Just call if you need me." And she was gone leaving both of them staring after her. The "Mrs. Goren" comment in front of a fully conscious Goren had her wincing. As Alex turned to look at him, she was sure she was going to see his eyes bulging, at the very least a mocking expression, but instead his eyes were closing. Oh good, no need to explain the Mrs. Goren thing.

"Oh no, not yet, you don't!" and Alex grabbed an ice chip and pushed it between Goren's lips. His eyes flew open as the frozen chip clicked against his tooth.

"Open." she ordered as he looked at her with dimming eyes. He did as he was told, then sucked in several more ice chips. Her elation at seeing him awake was being replaced by more worry. He was frighteningly weak, a very sobering reality.

The next few hours were spent waking Bobby every half hour or so and forcing ice chips or a straw between his lips. Alex thought the doctor would never arrive. She really needed to know how Bobby was doing. He still had not spoken.

Each time Goren awoke he remembered a bit more. Knowledge of where he was came instantly upon waking, but he felt so exhausted he couldn't seem to stay awake or attempt to sort out what had happened to him. Each time he opened his eyes, he would see Eames. She was curled up on a chair beside the bed facing him, nestled under a hospital blanket tattooed with Truby Memorial across one side. Sometimes she would be watching him and he would relax, reassured and comforted by the sight of a quiet smile spreading across her face.

Sometimes her head would be rolled to her shoulder and she would be asleep. If he had a cup of coffee, he would wave it under her nose, just to watch the show. The pungent aroma of the coffee always generated an instant response when they were on a stake out. She would awaken, shaking the hair back from her face as she sat up. Inhaling a deep breath, she would reach out to him for the cup with both eyes still closed. It was the same every time. Goren suppressed a smile at the memory. It was these tiny little things that often gave him great pleasure when they worked together. He never told her that he'd been drinking out of the same thermos cup for hours. Oh, well. He never backwashed. And besides, she had a much better immune system than he did. The only time she'd ever been really sick was when she was pregnant – and that was nothing she got from him…. But there was no smell of coffee in this room, only the distinctive smells of the hospital. He couldn't even catch a whiff of the delicate perfume she always wore. Maybe if she was closer…

And that's when he remembered.

She had been laying asleep, right here, pressed firmly against him in the night. The memory returned a flood of sensual impressions; of her touch, her warmth, her breath, her scent, the darkness of the room, the peace on her partially shaded features, the quiet, broken only by the beeps of the monitor. Her hand resting on his chest.

Alex!

He would have spoken aloud if he could. A sharp pain behind his eye had his vision blurring. He was overwhelmed with the poignancy of her actions. He was grateful. And he was confused. He stopped breathing. The heart monitor began to pick up rhythm. What would have pushed her do that? It was so un-Eames-like. Why would she go from never touching him to lying in bed beside him? This just didn't make sense. Was this his latent repressed wish? A wish to be comforted and cared for by this woman he shared almost every day with?

Did it really happen? He was still unconvinced that it wasn't all part of a hallucination, He needed to be sure. He didn't want to make a colossal blunder with her. But there was no way to be sure, no telltale evidence. All he knew was that he had her cross wrapped around his fingers. He closed his eyes and tears squeezed out of their corners. He took a ragged breath. He had to be so careful how he handled this. He needed to preserve their relationship at all cost. She was like his left arm and the only one in the world he could trust. And she was here when no one else was.

Because there was no one else. A pang of loneliness struck him. Eames was only here because it was her job. Sadness joined the loneliness.

And then…….

If he could have smiled, he would have. The woman beside him last night had not worn her cross. Because it was wrapped around his fingers. To borrow her phrasing: Alex Eames, you are so busted.

But he was still unsure why she'd lain with him. Not his usual type of puzzle-solving. He was such a complete failure at deciphering his partner - so much for his "deep understanding of human behaviour", to quote her. He was excellent at combining observation, analyses and possible outcomes in the blink of an eye. But this was Eames.

Muscle by muscle his body was giving in again to exhaustion. He started to fight it, then wondered why. This was not a bad place to be for a little while longer. So he surrendered to the serenity of the warm secret memories where he and Eames lay insulated in the safe darkness of night; where they were forever suspended in time and place and circumstance.

Thank you Alex. Thank you for staying.

Alex heard Bobby's ragged breath and opened her eyes in time to watch the tears roll down the side of his cheeks. Oh, Bobby. His tears tore at her heart. She had seen his eyes tear up before, but never roll down his cheeks. She watched him, worry in every shadow of her face, waiting to see if the tears stopped. She could have run to his side, dried his tears and told him everything would be all right. She experienced a mental tug of war whether to move or wait.

What could have happened in Tates which left him so clearly traumatized? He was experiencing mental trauma as well as physical. And that worried her immensely. His delicate thought processes and emotions needed to be protected just as much, if not more, than his body. He had managed for years to hide that sensitive soul. She had kept a careful eye on him over the last gruelling year as his mother's suffering had drained him emotionally and financially. At the same time he had been hit with the revelation of his mother's relationship with a serial killer. Gone was the cavalier Robert Goren who played as if he had nothing to lose. In his place rose a more subdued man with many of the sharp edges rounded, a man bearing some inner personal burden. She had worried excessively about him. She hoped that some day he might realize she was there for him for anything. Not just work. He was not to that point yet, he still kept her at arm's length. And she was not ready to lay it out in plain words. But she just might if pushed.

The physiological significance of his tears was not lost on her, either. He was re-hydrating well or else there would be no tears. Three days without water could be fatal. The memory of last night's fear stabbed her again as she wondered how close he'd come to that point. She watched as the tear tracks dried on his face. His breathing evened, the heart monitor calmed and he was asleep again. She relaxed in her chair. There would be a lot to discuss when he was able.

Alex wondered if he'd noticed her cross was wound around his fingers. She considered removing it while he slept, but wasn't sure what to say if he awoke as she was taking it. She had mixed feelings about having given it to him. Not that she regretted giving it to him under the circumstances, just that she wasn't sure she wanted to reveal to him how distressed she'd been for him. He really didn't need to know how deep her fears had been. She wasn't sure how he'd feel about that or what he'd say. She had let her mask slip way too far last night. Alex wanted to preserve what she had with Robert Goren. Under no circumstances was she willing to upset the incredibly vibrant and challenging life she experienced working with him. In the light of day, with his hourly improvements, she felt like she'd over-reacted. Did he know she'd lain beside him in bed for hours? Her discomfort increased just as Goren's strength increased. Why was she so embarrassed about showing her feelings? It seemed the more she cared for him, the more repressed she became.

Her introspection and the growing discomfort at having exposed her feelings was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor. At last.