(Athena)
The other side of the bed was cool, empty, missing her husband. Athena reached for her cell phone on the bedside night stand, checking the time and finding it 3:00 AM. Tossing aside the blanket, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool carpet beneath her bare feet, and stood. The bedroom door was partially open, a soft glow coming from without. Worry nibbled at her nerves, concern settling uneasily on her shoulders. On quiet footfalls she left the bedroom in search of Bobby. In the back of her mind she fretted, having confessed her deepest fear earlier in the evening in a text conversation with Hen.
Athena: This is enough to send him drinking.
Hen: He's strong. We got him.
Athena: I'm still scared. Buck is basically a son to him.
Hen: I know. Every single one of us will keep tabs on him.
Athena: Don't cover for him.
Hen: Never.
And what do I do if he does break his sobriety? How do I get him back? Aware of every beat her heart took, feeling as though she'd slipped into her own suspense thriller, Athena crept down the short hallway to the belly of the house. Any hope of finding her husband unable to sleep and watching a pointless show went out the window. The TV sat dark, ignored. No, Bob y sat at the dining table, his laptop open in front of him. So fixated on the screen he failed to register her presence, even when she came up behind him.
He hit a key and horror flooded through her.
Athena watched a video of Buck's Jeep pulling up to the curb where it had been found, a guy very clearly not the young Buckley, climbing out from behind the steering wheel. There was enough light from a nearby streetlight to reveal the blood splatter on his shirt, and in all her years on the beat, as an officer who dealt with more than her fair share of crooks, she knew instantly from his walk that this guy didn't care who saw him. He didn't care if he got caught on camera and there was only one reason, okay, maybe two, she could think of for him to be so casual.
"Where did you get this?" she asked.
At the sound of her voice Bobby jumped, his hand knocking over a glass of clear liquid. "Shit." In a blink he moved the laptop while simultaneously standing. Athena caught the glass before it rolled off the table. Bobby had taken the computer with him, depositing it on a counter while he went to retrieve a towel. In that moment, his back to her, Athena ran a finger along the inside of the mug and stuck it in her mouth.
Water.
Just water.
Bobby swept a towel over the puddle. "Sorry."
"Where did you get that?" she asked again. Of course, she'd already seen the footage, got a glimpse of it as she was wrapping up her shift, called into Elaine's office to watch it. She'd hoped to keep it from Bobby, at least until she figured out how to tell him what may have happened.
How his past has come back to haunt him in the worst possible way.
"A friend sent it," was all Bobby said by way of explanation, and she knew from his tone it was all she'd get. Suddenly, his eyes snapped to hers. "Have you seen it?"
Why lie? "Yes, and I know the name of the man in the footage."
"And you kept it from me?"
She placed a hand on his cheek while also taking hold of his other, wanting desperately for him to remember how much she loved him, how deeply she cared. "Yes, Bobby, I did because I didn't know how to tell you." She searched his eyes, saw the pain, the betrayal, but most of all, the sadness. "Oh Bobby, my sweet Bobby. Please understand, I planned to tell you as soon as I figured out how."
"Who is he?"
"Lawrence Ray." She waited to see if the name flipped a switch, for the lightbulb to come on, but Bobby had no reaction. Athena sighed, letting her hand slip away from his face. While maintaining hold of his other hand she pulled out a chair and settled at the table, indicating he should do the same. Once he had she scooted her chair closer, squeezing his hand briefly. "His sister lived in the building, and that night, their mom paid her a visit. She didn't make it, Bobby." He tone softened. "His sister survived, but I guess between her burns and the guilt… She ended things six or so months ago. Which, from what we can tell, is about the time Lawrence Ray came out this way. He started tracking you, me, all of us, and seems to have focused his anger on Buck. He's even one of Buck's neighbors."
As she spoke Athena watched Bobby for any reaction, any trace of emotion, and when the last word slipped between her teeth tension erupted in the house. For a breath, a heartbeat, and then Bobby was on his feet, tearing his hand away from her.
"And you kept it from me?" he reiterated his earlier statement, anger lacing the words this time.
"I'm sorry. I did what I felt best."
"I can't … You… He…"
His back was to her when something in Bobby broke. His shoulders slumped and he fell to his knees. Athena was at his side in an instant, gathering him in her arms.
"It's my fault. Buck's hurt and it's my fault. It should be me. He should have come for me. Why? Why not me? I'm the one he's mad at. I'm the one who messed up his life. It should be me."
Stop! Stop saying that! Stop beating yourself up! How can you help Buck if you drown in misery and self loathing? She wanted to shout at him, get mad, but kept her mouth shut. He wouldn't listen to reason anyway, not now, not in this moment. She held him, letting him feel the love she offered, the comfort and support, the familiarity.
When finally she spoke Athena said to him, "We'll find him. I swear. I promise you, Bobby. I will find him. I'll never stop looking. Ever."
XxXxXxXxX
(Bobby)
Later, as the sun began to peek around the gaps in the curtains, Bobby lay awake in bed beside his wife. Athena slept soundly and for that he was grateful. Eventually, after everything, she coaxed him back to bed and they held each other. She fell asleep, but his mind continued to race refusing to let him have even a moment of peace.
Buck.
An image of the blood from Buck's Jeep flashed in his mind.
Because of me.
Where had Lawrence Ray, this ghost from his past, taken Buck?
How badly hurt is he? Will we find him in time? Will we find him at all?
His past mistakes, his inability to deal with pain unless he hid it underneath alcohol cost him a lifetime and continued to do so. He drank to keep from feeling and now he seemed all he did was feel the twisting knife if grief and sorrow. It followed him despite getting clean, despite all the lives he helped to save. It hounded him. Sought to take from him those he cherished.
Again.
Am I doomed to always lose the ones I love? Will the scales ever be balanced or will others always pay for my faults? My misdeeds? And if that's the case, what do I do to change the tide? What if there's no way to?
Athena's alarm sounded. She stirred.
So began another day.
