Chapter 2

She woke up several times in the night. She never once cried out, but her heart monitor blipped like crazy and Bobby could hear her panicked breaths. Each time, he spoke to her quietly, tried to reassure her that the nightmare was over. He didn't touch her, he couldn't take the chance that he would spook her even more.

Bobby's own exhaustion was starting to assert itself. At 4 a.m., he was just dozing off when the nurse ripped the curtain aside, launching both he and Alex into a panicked state.

"It's okay, Alex," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. His own heart was racing, and Alex's breath came in jagged spurts, but the nurse seemed oblivious to them both.

Bobby's anger flared, and he got to his feet, fluttering in the three feet alongside Alex's bed until the nurse finished her mundane task. He followed her out of the room.

"You… you frightened her," he called out. The woman didn't seem to get that he was addressing her. He took a long step and leaned into her personal space. "Alex, Alex Eames. She's been traumatized, you know. And that curtain… you scared her." He was raging inside, but he managed to keep his tone level. He couldn't risk offending them. He couldn't risk being sent away from her.

"Oh. Sorry," the nurse said.

It was completely unsatisfying. Bobby nodded and backed away. He clenched his fist once, twice, then headed back into Alex's room, careful to let the door latch gently and avoiding the curtain.

"Bobby?" She whispered.

"I'm here, Alex."

Her breath was still unsteady, and it took him a moment to realize she was crying.

Bobby moved closer. "I just… I spoke with that nurse," he explained. He wanted desperately to hold her hand, but instead he waved it near her arm and then dropped it at his side.

"Alex," he said quietly. "You're okay now. It's over. You're safe."

"I'm not okay," she admitted, and he felt a chill go up his spine.

That's when I decided to kill Eames.

He couldn't restrain himself any longer. Bobby reached down and took just the tips of her fingers in his grasp. "I… I know, Alex." He rolled her fingers between his, massaging them gently. Alex quieted, and she drifted away again.

Bobby kept a grip on her fingertips and raised his left hand to scrub his weary eyes.

But then you were on the case and he totally lost interest in me. That's when I decided to kill Eames.

Bobby stifled a sob and dropped his hand to cover his mouth. He stared at Alex through watery eyes. The guilt was overwhelming him. He bent over and dropped a kiss on her relaxed fingertips, then let go and staggered back to the chair.

Bobby kept his chin in his hand as he tried desperately to remember what it had been like before: only days before, but it seemed like a lifetime away.

Two nights before the call-out, they'd hit O'Hare's for drinks. It hadn't been anything, really, just another night out to blow off steam. He and Alex did that occasionally. They would hole up at a table in the corner, drink a few, and try to outdo each other's stories.

Only last week, it had been different. They'd had their drinks, and for some damn reason, she'd caught his hand in hers. She rubbed the scar on the back of his thumb and asked him about it.

Her touch was electric. Bobby rambled, probably about the scar though he couldn't remember a word of it now. And he'd slipped his hand down, until they were really and truly holding hands.

Alex had seemed happy about it. And when the server brought them new drinks, she'd scooted a little closer to him.

Thinking back on it now, he couldn't remember how they'd ended up in that kiss. But kiss they had, and he remembered every single sensation. Her lips, firm but still tender, closing around his upper lip. He remembered the gentle way her tongue had eased his lips open and how soft it felt against his own.

It wasn't something either of them had been able to sort out, that night. They'd shared that kiss, and they'd talked quietly, and he'd taken her home. And in the days that followed, neither of them had figured out what should happen next.

But she had been more patient with him, even when she was tired and he was running off in a direction that promised the disapproval of the Captain. Even when she'd stayed up until two a.m. watching surveillance tapes.

Now, Bobby didn't know what to do with any of it. He knew he was grateful that she hadn't been killed. That was the extent of what he knew for sure. Everything else was as uncertain as the direction of a loose feather in a windstorm.

And really? None of it mattered now. All that mattered was Alex was alive. All that mattered was that she get well. Whatever hopes and dreams he had been entertaining before the last week's hell had moved to the bottom of the priority list.

Bobby sat in the quiet morning, mind swirling until he couldn't fight sleep any longer. His head drooped, and he was asleep.

Alex awoke in a panic again. She couldn't move. In the moment before she forced her eyes open, she thought she was back in that basement.

To her surprise, it was the hospital room. She glanced around, remembering where she was and why, but it didn't relieve the panic. She still couldn't move her arms. She gasped in fear and there was Bobby, looming over her, the worry apparent in his weary face.

"It's okay, Alex, you're in the hospital, it's all over," he told her for the hundredth time.

"I know I'm in a fucking hospital!" She snarled.

Bobby backed away a step, eyes wide. He couldn't fathom what was wrong.

She struggled again, but her arms simply wouldn't move. The heart monitor betrayed the fear that continued to build in her.

"What… what is it?!" he finally asked.

Her eyes met his, wide with fear. "I can't move!" she cried.

He actually had the audacity to look relieved. Bobby smiled, and she fought back a desperate urge to knock the smile off his face. Lucky for him that she couldn't move her arms. "Your muscles," he said quietly. "You're sore. You… you overexerted yourself yesterday, and they're…" Suddenly, he was smoothing his big, warm hand over the place where her shoulder met her chest. He was very gentle, tentative.

She didn't say anything, but her heart rate slowed. He slid his hands down to her biceps, but stopped before reaching her elbow.

To her surprise, the heat of his hand unbound her muscle enough that she was able to lift her hand slightly off the bed. Alex sighed, and he slid his hands back up to her shoulder again.

He placed very little pressure there, but she grimaced. Bobby yanked his hands free, holding them up in the air. "S-sorry," he stammered.

She sighed again. "Hurt," she explained.

"You're sore," he said, nodding. "Maybe I can ask them to get you… a hot water bottle or something."

Her head bobbed slightly, and he stepped out to the nurse's station. The morning shift had begun, and Bobby saw a new face there. He asked, and she gave him a cheerful reply.

She followed him back in and assessed her patient, then left to get the requested item.

Bobby placed her fingers in his hand again, like he had in the wee hours. She looked over at him. "Thirsty," she said.

Instantly, he was preparing her drink, ripping the paper off a straw and tucking it inside the paper cup. Bobby held the cup carefully so it wouldn't spill, despite the awkward angle required for the straw to touch her lips.

She filled her mouth twice and lost interest in the drink. He replaced it on the tray table and stood out of the way when the nurse brought in the hot water bottles and laid them delicately over Alex's sore shoulders.

Alex closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Bobby, thinking she was asleep, went back to the chair.

"He… he must have, I don't know, had something wrong with him?" She said. "The pulleys…"

Suddenly Bobby realized she didn't know. In her mind, she was still trying to make sense of the clues. "It was a woman," Bobby said, and she made a sour face, but her eyes flew open again. "It… it was Jo Gage," he explained. Alex said nothing, but he could see the surprise in her expression. "We… I got her confession yesterday," he added quietly.

"Why?" she asked.

He couldn't tell her it was so the woman's father would have a conversation with her, so he buried that away and said the next honest answer he could think of.

"Because of me."

Her eyes met his for a moment, but neither of them said anything more. Alex closed her eyes again, and was asleep before they brought in the next dose of medication.