Chapter Text
She watched Bobby as he stared out of the passenger side window. He hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten into the SUV, and she was worried about him. But then, worry seemed to be her default emotion towards him, lately.
They’d been in hairy situations before, but this had been one of the worst. She’d seen him talk his way out of a lot. Both of them had, and they had the records to prove it. In the whole of their careers, not one hostage had been lost between them. But when one of them was the hostage, what happened then? She’d left that room because they both knew that someone had to make sure Emily didn’t burst in on them, but it was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She knew he needed to know that Emily was safe in order to do what he did best, but it was bad, and she’d wanted to be in there with him to back him up. She’d listened through the door and had heard the strain in his voice. She knew how close the situation had come to spiraling out of control, especially when he’d called out to send Emily in. He’d been trying to distract Wizneski after his attempts to connect with the man hadn’t worked. It rarely got to that point with Bobby. He could usually talk someone into putting down a weapon without his having to get physical.
Wizneski had wanted to kill Bobby, she had no doubt of that. Bobby had come to embody the anger and helplessness the cop had felt. The irony was that Bobby felt the same anger and helplessness, even if Wizneski had refused to see it.
And in spite of it all, she knew Bobby had still wanted the man to live. Not just to face up to his crimes, but also to get to the point where it didn’t seem like there were no other options and for the sake of the man’s wife and daughter. It had been devastating to watch Wizneski take his life, but the worst of it was when Emily had run outside only to see her father dead on the ground.
Emily. She was more like a little adult than a thirteen year old. She knew Bobby saw himself in her, but then he often saw himself in young people whose childhoods had ended too soon. She wondered if Bobby had been that way—so adult at so young an age. Probably. She sighed at the thought. He could be so boyish, but there was always an undercurrent of something else—a deep sorrow evocative of the burdens he bore. She saw less and less of the happier, playful side of her partner, and it concerned her.
She wished he’d talk to her. He had more in recent years than he had at the beginning of their partnership, but it had fallen off since her abduction—as if he didn’t want to bother her or felt he couldn’t. She knew he was devastated about Jo Gage, though he hadn’t talked about it with her. He had been so happy when he’d introduced Jo to her—so obviously proud of the woman.
Bobby had friends, but she could always tell who the most important people in his life were—who he connected with beyond shared interests or odd experiences in common. And as far as she could tell, there weren’t many such people. Of all the many things she was livid about in the fallout from her abduction, one of the biggest was her anger with Jo and Declan Gage for reducing that number. Few people ever won Bobby’s trust, and when that trust was betrayed, the effect rippled through all of his relationships, causing him to withdraw from everyone.
Alex thought about the attention focused on her. It was something she wouldn’t have liked during the best of times, and she had a hard time balancing her response to people’s concern. She was grateful for it, but she also needed her space. And she needed her life to go on. She was not opposed to therapy, but wished it were her choice rather than a departmental requirement. She’d worked with enough kidnapping victims to know that there was no way to avoid it having an effect. And as much as she hated the idea of labeling herself a victim in any way, she knew she had been affected. The nights when she woke from nightmares with the strangled cries Amanda had made after she’d lost the strength to scream still ringing in her ears were evidence of that. So she appreciated the help, even as she struggled with it.
But Bobby needed support, too, and he wasn’t going to get it without being made to get it. She knew her abduction had impacted him heavily. She’d managed to overhear enough whispered conversations about how bad it had been for him when she’d disappeared before people noticed her and stopped talking. And she didn’t need those conversations to know he was off balance. He likely needed mandated therapy more than she did. She was surrounded by a family full of civil servants and first responders who, even if they didn’t know exactly what she was going through, understood trauma. They understood the strain and the loss and the fury, and more often than not, she didn’t have to explain. He had almost no one.
At times, she wondered if the personal things he’d reveal during their investigations were as much about his needing to connect with someone as about anything else. That maybe it gave him a way to be vulnerable when he otherwise could not. She hurt to think of his mother only having months to live, not only because of what Frances Goren must be going through due to the ravages of her illness, but also because of what losing her would do to Bobby. She couldn’t stand the thought of him going through that alone, and she wondered how long it was that he’d been dealing with it.
She looked over at him again.
“You alright?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t.
He looked at her, but didn’t say anything before turning back to the window, and she didn’t like what she saw in his eyes.
She drove a few more blocks before saying, “You can talk to me if you need to, Bobby. It’s okay.”
Again, he didn’t say anything, but she knew he’d taken it in. She wouldn’t push him, but she would continue to check in with him. She’d give him the time and space he needed to process his emotions to the point where he could get a handle on what was going on inside him, but she wouldn’t let it go. She’d support him, whether he wanted her to or not.
He slouched down in the seat, curled into himself with his fist pressed into his mouth, and she was struck by how small such a large man could seem.
“I meant what I said about finishing the paperwork,” she said. “Go spend some time with your mother.”
She said it more like an order than a suggestion. In the corner of her eye, she saw him nod slightly, and she let out a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding.