Here, at last, is an update to this story. I apologize for the delay. The new season and missing scenes plot bunnies diverted my attention.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

In the next weeks, Alex's real job became Bobby, although she was still part of the Major Case Squad. She was enormously grateful to Ross and for whatever he did to give her so much freedom. She spent much of her time at the hospital, fending off reporters, the Brass, serial killer groupies, lawyers, family members, the FBI, and psychiatrists and psychologists who wanted to interview the survivor of an infamous serial killer. Alex possessed some sympathy for the families desperate to learn if their daughters or wives or sisters or mothers had been one of Sebastian's victims. She had some reluctant understanding of the FBI agents who sought to solve cases, although that was tempered by her feeling that if the FBI had done its job Bobby wouldn't have suffered his ordeal. But Alex regarded all the others as blood sucking weasels.

"Although," she thought one morning as she sat by Bobby's bed. "Bobby would probably remind me that weasels don't suck blood. And didn't he tell me once that they were actually rather admirable creatures?" She looked at Bobby as he stirred restlessly. She missed his obscure bits of knowledge and wry sense of humor terribly. She wondered if she'd ever hear his gentle laugh again. She thought she'd be thrilled if Bobby would just look at her directly. He couldn't hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. Some days he refused to look at anyone, including her. In spite of the fact they sometimes spent hours together, he rarely spoke to her about anything, especially about the elephants circling his room.

His physical recovery, fortunately, was as fast as his mental one was slow. Its most troubling aspect was Bobby's refusal to take his painkillers regularly. He steadily stayed away from them until his pain and sleeplessness became overwhelming, and then he'd disappear into a drug induced haze. At least the torn and pulled muscles healed; the cuts and bruises and gashes and burns and his back and legs and feet slowly became less red and raw and ugly. He still felt the need to hide his badly scarred arms and hands beneath the covers whenever anyone entered his room. Alex occasionally wondered if one reason he couldn't speak was because his hands were muted. He seemed to trust some people—Alex, George Huang, a couple of the nurses—to some degree, but he rarely spoke even to them.

"We're going to move him to the special unit at Bellevue," Huang told Alex one day. "The staff here is very good, but they're not the specialists the Bellevue unit is."

Alex sighed. "I can't reach him…I don't know how…But if you can't reach him…What chance do I have?"

Huang smiled sadly. "Training and education aren't the only things you need to help someone," he said. "You have a connection with Detective Goren. You know him better than anyone. I'd put that up against a lot of paper certification."

"Thanks," Alex said softly. "You know we're going to have to approach him carefully about this move."

Huang nodded. "Yes…I've learned that lesson. But if you're around to support him, it'll help a great deal."

Bobby was quietly and disturbingly subservient when the subject of going to Bellevue came up.

"Whatever you think is best," he said in a flat voice.

"I would've felt better if he'd put up some kind of fight," Huang said when they left Bobby's room.

"Yea," Alex agreed. "But I'd feel better if he'd just respond to anything…And the way he uses the pain medication…"

"Because he won't take them?"

"Partly," Alex said. "But…When he finally does give in and take them…He seems to take them as much to just numb himself as to stop the physical pain…Bobby's always been so afraid of drugs…So afraid they'll slow his brain…Hurt his thinking…Now…I'm afraid this…He might not be able to…"

"He's also strong and resilient because of what he went through in his life," Huang said. "We have to hope that helps him."

The Bellevue Unit devoted to treating torture victims was a surprisingly cheery place in many ways, but its bright colors, gentle and sympathetic staff, and wounded but hopeful patients were lost on Bobby when he arrived there. He remained heartbreakingly polite and kind, and the staff loved him, but he scarcely responded beyond a gentle "Please" and "Thank you." He attended individual and group counseling sessions, but barely spoke in them.

"He might talk to you," Huang told Alex.

"I'm almost afraid he will," Alex answered.

She finally spoke with him on a beautiful early summer day. Bobby and many other patients were out on the lawns the patients and families were encouraged to use. Alex was happy to see Bobby outside, but it broke her heart to see him sitting by himself. He stared at a row of flowers as she approached him. Most were a spectacular blaze of colors, but some bore dead leaves and wilted petals.

"Hey," she said gently. "The flowers are nice."

"The daffodils have died," Bobby said.

Alex sat next to him. "But the others are alive…And they're beautiful."

A long silence followed. Alex struggled to find something to say to Bobby.

"I don't belong here."

Alex stared at him. "Bobby…You…You need help…It's nothing to be ashamed of. A terrible thing happened to you…"

He shook his head. "No…No…You don't understand…I know…I know something horrible happened to me. I was there."

Alex tried not to jerk at his words.

"That's not the reason," Bobby continued. "These other patients…" He waved one of his hands. "People…People like me…Police…Security agents…They…They hurt these people…Tortured them…How…How can I tell them I'm a victim…When people like me…Hurt them…Tortured them…Manipulated them…"

Alex stared at him. "Bobby," she said when she could finally speak. "You…You would never torture…Hurt…Anyone like that…And the people we deal with…They're not innocents…"

"How do we know that? How many Croydons do I have that I don't know about?"

Alex's head spun. "Bobby…Please…Croydon…He…He wasn't a good guy…And you didn't kill him…And…And think of all the people you've helped…The people you've saved…"

Bobby shook his head. "It…It doesn't matter…I've manipulated people…I've frightened them…"

"Robert Goren…" Alex moved closer to him on the bench. "You have never physically attacked a witness or a perp…"

Bobby fell back from her, and his hands flew to cover his eyes. "I…I can't tell them what I am…How can I tell them I'm the same thing that tortured and raped and killed them and their families and their friends? Who did terrible things? How can I tell them I'm a victim like them? I don't deserve to lick their feet…"

"Bobby…Bobby…You were tortured by a mad man…"

"I'm not even a good detective," Bobby muttered. "I let myself get kidnapped by a serial killer…"

"Robert Goren." Alex seized his arms. "You saved a woman…God knows how many women you saved…"

"My biological father was a serial killer," Bobby said. "The man I thought was my father was a manipulative bastard. My mother was out of her mind. My brother an addict. And my mentor…Maybe I deserve this…Maybe it was just…"

Alex pulled his hands away from Bobby's face. Bobby winced.

"Bobby…Please…You're the first person to say that no one…No one…Deserves anything like this…You…You are a good man..A brave man…You try to save everyone…Even if they…"

Bobby looked at her. Alex could barely hold his gaze. She'd never seen so much pain and anguish in anyone's eyes.

"Bobby," she managed. "You belong here. Not because you were weak. You were strong…You survived…Just like the other people here."

He shook violently, but couldn't pull his hands away from her. "You…You don't know…Alex…Alex…The only thing that kept me alive…Was…You…So I could tell you I was sorry…"

"Oh, Bobby…There's nothing to forgive…We've talked about that…I'm so glad you stayed alive…I'm honored that I was the reason…"

A choked cry came from him, and Bobby slid from the bench to the ground. Alex caught and held him. She saw a nurse rushing towards them, and she waved him away. The nurse stopped and anxiously stood several feet away.

Bobby shook so violently that Alex shook with him. "Let go," she whispered. "It's all right…I'm here…I've got you…"

"You…You know…You know that they…They raped me?" The words came in gasps.

Terror and hope filled Alex. Bobby hadn't spoken about any of the details of what Caldwell and Sebastian did to him. She was moved that Bobby was finally speaking to her, and terrified that she couldn't help him.

"Yes," she said softly.

"It…It wasn't the worst thing they did to me…I try…I try to forget…But I can't…I try to remember…I can't…And it gets…Alex…I…I don't know what to do…I don't know how…"

Sobs took him, and Alex wrapped her arms around him. She was dimly aware of nurses and orderlies surrounding her and Bobby and their offers of help, but they were lost in the sounds of Bobby's cries.

END CHAPTER NINETEEN