A/N: Okay, with my last couple of stories, I've written very long chapters and it took me awhile, sometimes more than 2 weeks to update. I was asked by a few readers to shorten the chapters a little, so that's what I decided to do with this story. Chapters 1 and 2 were actually at one point together, making one long chapter. Now, I'm being asked for longer chapters. So…I don't know what to do. I'm trying to please everyone, but that sometimes isn't possible.

Anyway, I think as long as I keep posting, I'm pleasing the readers. I'm trying to post more than 1 chapter per week, but it all depends on my work schedule. Please be patient, the story will come. Thank you all!

Enjoy!

The 44th Precinct

Highbridge, Bronx

Alex took in the neighborhood as she headed toward the front doors to the police department. The neighborhood was one of the many under the poverty level; graffiti decorated every surface of the walls that was within reach, even in spots it couldn't. She always wondered how people were able to spray paint in spots so far off the ground. But the graffiti was everywhere in the city and boroughs, not just there.

However, what she was trying to imagine was Bobby taking a pit-stop in that neighborhood. There hadn't been any reason for it. Opening the door, she held it for Logan who came in right behind her.

The station wasn't too busy as she approached the watch sergeant on duty as she held up her shield. "I'm Detective Eames with Major Case. I understand your guys brought in a car this morning belonging to Detective Robert Goren."

The watch sergeant, Sergeant Rakoski, took a quick glance at her shield and then at her before picking up the phone, telling her, "It's in the garage. CSU is going over it now. I'll tell them you're coming."

Alex looked over at Logan as she pocketed her shield, giving him a look at how easy that was. She was expecting some sort of protest or demand to know if she was even on the case. "Where's-" she went to ask when a uniform came up to them.

"Follow me, I'll take you there. It's around back," the officer told them as he lead them through the precinct and then out the back doors.

Alex saw the police garage across the parking lot along with several CSU vans. As they started the walk toward the garage, she asked the officer, "Where was the car found?"

"In a vacant parking lot off the Expressway."

"Was there a gas station near by or a store of some kind?"

The office shook his head as he told her, "No gas station for a few blocks, and in the other direction. The parking lot used to belong to a strip club before it was condemned. It's been vacant and boarded up for about…eight months now." He stepped up to the door and pulled it open for them.

"Thanks," she told him as she entered the garage and immediately spotted Bobby's '67 Ford Mustang convertible. The CSU's were nearly tearing it apart. Bobby was going to be pissed if they didn't put it back together right.

"We heard he was missing," the officer said, "Any word?"

Alex shook her head as she watched as a CSI opened the backdoor and started a search. It didn't take long before she heard him call out.

"We got a syringe," the CSI announced as he pulled up his camera and took a picture. Another CSI came up behind him and collected the piece of evidence.

Alex went up to her and asked to see the bag with the syringe. Taking it in her hands, she inspected it as she turned to Logan. "It's not a junkie's needle."

"And you know this how?"

"While working in Vice I met a lot of junkies. The needle is too thin."

"You think it belonged to whoever took Goren?" Logan quietly asked as he took the bag from her.

"Nicole Wallace is known for using needles. Poison is her forte." Alex sighed heavily as she shook her head. "It's her. She has him." Feeling her cell vibrate in her pocket, she took it out as she checked the caller ID. It was central dispatch. "Eames."

"Yes, Detective, we just received a call from a nurse at the Saint John's Hospital in the Bronx. She says that Detective Goren is there now. He's a patient."

"Okay, thank you. I'll be right there," she said into the phone before flipping it shout. Turning to Mike, she said, "Bobby's been found. He's at Saint John's Hospital."

"That's only a few blocks away. Let's go," Mike said as they quickly left the garage and headed for the SUV.

Saint John's Hospital

Walking through the doors of the hospital, Detective Odafin 'Fin' Tutuola sought out the police officers who'd called him while his partner Detective John Munch headed toward the nurse's desk. He found the two cops, McNeil and Ellis, hanging outside the cafeteria with big cups of soda in their hands. Stepping up to the officers, he asked, "You called Special Victims?"

Officer Ellis took a look at him and said, "Yea, but it's too late now, the guy split."

"Okay, but why did you call us to begin with?" Fin asked as he took out his notepad and pen, ready to copy everything down.

Ellis took a sip of the soda before telling him the whole story, "A guy comes in here, claiming to not remember who he was or what had happened to him. The docs do their thing and call us in to get his statement. I noticed marks on his wrists and he had a cut on the right side of his lip. Get this, he says he woke up naked in a motel room with no wallet or ID and no memory of his entire life. Then, instead of calling the police first, he gets dressed and goes out for breakfast."

"And that's why you didn't believe him, because of his actions afterwards?" Fin asked as he jotted everything down. He had to admit, he would have believed the guy either. The story was sketchy at best.

"Right, who does that?"

"Did he shower?"

Ellis shook his head, telling him, "He said he didn't want to ruin evidence. The only honest thing that came out of his mouth. We got his prints and swabbed him for DNA, we were waiting on you guys and the CSU to get here." The cop handed over the prints and the mouth swab to him.

He took the evidence and pocketed them. "So," Fin said after thinking about the guy and the story he told, "you think the guy picked up a woman, possibly a hooker, went back to the motel and had some rough sex. Or he something else went on and they got into it, and that she took his wallet."

"And then in the morning after realizing what he'd done, thought up this amnesia bullshit so not to get in trouble with us or his wife, or both."

"Was he married?" Fin asked as he heard Munch coming down the hall.

McNeil spoke up as he told him, "We didn't see a ring or a tan line on his finger. But his right hand had a bandage on it from a previous injury."

Fin wrote that down as Munch stepped up to the side of him.

Leaning into him, Munch spoke softly into his ear as he said, "It was Detective Goren."

Fin jerked his head back as he looked at Munch. "What'd you mean it was Goren?"

Munch looked at the two cops and then back at him, saying again, "I mean it was Goren. The nurse thought I was here to get her statement because she had called the hotline in response to the media story on Detective Goren being a person of interest. He was here. He's the man with no memory."

"You're kidding," Fin said in disbelief as he looked at the notepad in his hand as his mind thought about everything the cops had told him. "Then, he wasn't lying. Bobby's had something happen to him and now he's out there running around the boroughs with no idea what's going on or who he is."

"Hold up," McNeil said as he'd been listening to the two of them. "You're telling me this guy's a cop?"

Fin gestured for them all to follow him as he lead them back down the hall to the nurse's desk. Approaching the desk, he saw the television on and asked the nurse, "Could you put it on the news." He watched as the nurse changed the channels and the news came on. The weather was currently being shown but after a few minutes, a repeat coverage of Bobby being wanted for questioning came back on. "Was that the guy?" he asked, pointing to the picture on the screen.

"Yeah, that's him," McNeil told him as he looked to his partner.

Fin pulled out his cell phone, ready to call his Captain when he heard a familiar voice call out his name.

"Fin, Munch, what're you doing here?"

They turned to see Eames coming up to them with another man in tow. Fin looked the man up and down and realized that he was her partner. "Probably for the same reason as you."

She stopped in front of him and said simply, "Bobby."

Giving a nod, he said, "Yeah." Looking over at her partner, he held out his hand. "Detective Tutuola, SVU, and this is Detective Munch."

"Detective Logan," he said before smiling over at Munch. "And I've heard about you from one of my old homicide partners."

Munch gave Logan a handshake before asking, "And who was that?"

"Lennie Briscoe."

Munch's smile dropped as he said, "Briscoe? I met him in Baltimore. That bastard slept with my ex-wife."

Logan started laughing as he told him, "Yeah, sorry. I forgot about that part of the story. It's been a while since he told me of his time with the Baltimore PD." Looking over at the two uniforms still standing there, he asked, "So, what's going on with Detective Goren?"

Fin answered instead, filling both Logan and Eames in on what they knew. As they all started to think about what to do next and who to call, Eames cell phone started going off.

"Probably another possible sighting," she told them as she flipped the phone open. "This is Detective Eames, who's calling?"

Fin watched as she wrinkled her head in confusion before saying 'hello?' Then, she nearly dropped the phone as her whole body went on high alert.

"Bobby?"

14th Street & Union Square

14th Street, Manhattan

As soon as he stepped off the subway, he had a plan formed in his head. The first thing he needed was a cell phone so he sought out a prepaid cell phone booth and found one along the terminal. He also spotted a booth selling New York souvenirs, one item being a Yankees baseball cap. After buying the phone, he bought the cap and slipped it on as he headed up to the street and out into the Flatiron District of the city.

Crossing the busy intersections, he headed to a busy coffee shop on the corner and picked up a cup of coffee and something to eat before crossing over to Union Square Park. Even though it was late February, the ever present Greenmarket Farmer's Market was in full swing.

He realized that he knew a lot about the city and where things were even though he had no memory of his own life. It was weird to know how the subways worked, which trains to take, where in the city buildings and restaurants were, but to have no idea where he himself lived. To not know if he was in a relationship, if he had a mother or father, or siblings. Yet, he knew that the Farmer's Market in Union Square Park was every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday from 8 am to 6 pm all year long.

As he blended in with the customers with bags of produce and food, he headed deeper into the park. A newsstand was coming up on his left so he stopped and grabbed a copy of each paper-the New Yorker, the Daily News and the Ledger-before walking over to a bench and taking a seat. Pulling out the recently bought cell phone, he got it out and put the SIM card in and battery. Hoping it didn't need to be charged, he turned it on and while waiting for it to startup, he flipped open the first morning paper as he drank his coffee and ate his food.

Through his search of the news, he couldn't find a single article about him or why he was wanted for questioning by the police. Whatever had happened, either the cops are keeping it under the media radar, or, this was breaking news. It wouldn't be in today's paper, but in tomorrows'. However, despite not finding anything useful about himself, it was good to read the news and to get a better grasp of what was going on.

He found himself drawn to the crime articles, reading about different investigations or trial hearings happening around the city. He was also interested in the Arts section, checking the sports stats of college basketball and the early prospects of the Yankees before spring training started.

He sat on the bench and read all three papers from front to back before getting up to buy another cup of coffee from a vendor. Taking out the cell phone, he realized he was hesitating to make the call. He wasted a lot of time and he was still reluctant but he knew he had to do it. Taking a breath, he walked back over to the bench and sat down as he dialed the number he'd memorized after only a quick glance.

That was another thing he was surprised about; he had an exceptional memory. Yet when he needed it most, like to know who he was, it was failing him.

The line on the other end was ringing as he sat on the bench, his left leg bouncing uncontrollably under his elbow as he stared at the remains of snow on the ground. There wasn't much snow left, having all melted away with the rising temperature.

"This is Detective Eames, who's calling?"

He heard the woman's voice and had to do a double take. He went to speak when he realized he hadn't given much thought as to what he was going to say.

"Hello?"

Clearing his throat, he simply said, "Yeah, this is Robert Goren…you're looking for me."

The detective was quiet for a moment, sounding startled, she asked, "Bobby?"

Bobby. Not Robert. Why would the detective call him something so…informal? Hesitating for a moment as he tried to process that, he asked, "You-you, uh, you know me? You know who I am?"

She was quiet again and he could hear her saying something to another person before answering, "Yes, I do. I know that you're also suffering from amnesia."

He gave a nod into the phone as he looked around at the people passing by him on their way through the park. "The police I talked to this morning didn't believe me."

"I believe you."

"How? I mean, why would you if you you're trying to bring me in? I don't even know what I did-"

"You didn't do anything," she strictly told him before saying, "Listen, Bobby, the reason I know you is because you're also a cop. You're a detective, and you were once my partner."

He was a detective? Then why was he being wanted? He had so many questions but he also wanted answers. Instead of asking anything, he told her, "I want to meet, but with you. Alone."

"Done. Where?" she asked without hesitation.

"Union Square Park. At the George Washington statue. When you get here, call this number back," he said before hanging up.

Rubbing at his head, he took a breath and got up as he headed toward the statue. He walked around the statue, taking in everyone around the park but most notably the police. The statue was at the front entrance to the park, along 14th street. There were many places to walk to from there. He had Union Square West off to the West, Union Square East to the East, the park and 17th street to the North. There were a lot of people coming and going through the park, going to the Farmer's Market or cutting through. Taxies were constantly going up and down the streets, and there was the subway station.

Checking his watch, he headed toward Union Square West and found a spot on a crowded and cold bench and waited.

Nearly twenty minutes later he noticed a patrol car slowing to a stop across the street. It parked but didn't stop running. The cops in it were watching the park. He took that in as he felt the cell phone vibrate. Looking around, he watched people, coming into and exiting the park.

Getting up off the bench, he headed further into the park as he answered the phone. "What took you so long?"

"I was in the Bronx."

"Were you at the motel?"

She was quiet for a second before saying, "No, the hospital."

"So, tell me, detective, why am I being wanted by the police if I am the police?"

She became silent again and he could hear her frustration as she told him, "It's a long story, but we all know you're innocent. The media story was a tactic by the DA's office to get you to come in because you've been missing since Saturday night. Bobby, do you understand what I'm saying?"

He leaned against a tree and peered through the opening between the trees and bare limbs. There weren't too many people around the statue. The women he saw were the same women sitting on the benches from when he was there walking around. The only woman he saw, who was talking on a cell phone, and looking like a cop was a short blond, about 5 foot 4, with a stern face, and she was searching around the statue, around the benches. She was trying to find him.

"I lost my memory, not my ability to think, detective,"

"It's Eames," she said in a soft, yet sad voice. "Or Alex."

He took in her tone and the sadness in her voice as he realized why she was being so informal and blunt with him. He also saw her face when she'd said that. It hurt; she was disappointed. "We, uh…We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes…" she said, but was hesitant in saying anything more. He found that he was also could read body language. Since he was a cop, he figured he was very good at it. So he saw the way her shoulders dropped, the way she seemed uncertain and also afraid as she realized she couldn't find him anywhere. "You can trust me, Bobby. You've got to tell me where you are. You have to let me bring you in."

"How do I know that I can trust you?"

"Because…" she hesitated again before telling him, "because we're not just friends, Bobby, we're in a relationship. Because we love each other."

They were together? And they loved each other? Okay, if that were true then why was he in a motel room with another woman? Was it by his own choice or was it something else? He was cop, so maybe he was meeting a contact. But, the woman said he was drunk, that he was hardly able to walk.

He dropped the phone away from his mouth as he continued to watch her. There seemed to be no dishonesty in her expression. However, he couldn't be for certain.

What in the hell was going on? And now this detective was telling him that they were in love with each other and that he could trust her. He didn't know what to think, or what to believe. He needed proof.

"I understand that this is real. I know you're not lying about not remembering, but you have to come in now, Bobby. This isn't looking good for you."

He looked off to the right and saw another man he hadn't been paying attention to before. He was tall with short cropped dark hair, a suit under his overcoat and a plaid tie. On his belt he spotted the bulge from a gun, and he saw the glint of the police shield.

"The DA thinks you're on the run and that this amnesia thing is just a way of establishing a defense," she continued to tell him as the other detective started to head his way. When he didn't answer for a long moment, she asked, "Bobby? Bobby, are you there?"

"I'll think about it," he told her right before hanging up. He stepped away from the tree and turned away from her as he headed up the path and toward the street. Glancing back, he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he saw the other detective turning around as Detective Alex Eames came up behind him.

They both started talking to each other before splitting up. Eames heading toward Union Square East while the man continued his way. Instead of continuing toward the street, he turned right on the path and cut back through the park, heading east. He wanted to keep his eyes on Detective Eames.

They searched around the park for him for a few minutes until they realized that he didn't want to be found. He kept a good distance away as he followed them back to a black SUV. Going up to the curb, he quickly waved down a taxi and got in it as the SUV pulled away from the curb.

He had the taxi driver follow it all the way to One Police Plaza.

TBC…