“You look like shit.”

Bobby spared Mike a withering look as he climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV that Mike had driven to Alex’s apartment.

“Thanks.”

“I’m not kidding,” Mike said, frowning. “Did you get any sleep last night at all?”

“Not nearly enough,” Jo announced firmly from the back seat.

“I’m fine,” Bobby mumbled, looking away out the window. Mike stared at him for a long moment before making up his mind.

“That does it. We’re going for coffee first.”

“Mike…” Bobby started to protest, but Mike merely grinned at him.

“Suck it up, pal. I’m driving, and I say we’re not letting you anywhere near Bellevue until you’ve had a suitably strong cup of coffee. C’mon. My treat. Let Richie and his precious lawyer cool their heels and wait for you.”

Bobby sighed softly. He really was not in the mood to argue.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Great,” Mike enthused. “Coffee heaven, here we come!”

Half an hour later, Bobby had to concede he did feel better after having been treated to a particularly strong cup of coffee. He still wasn’t a hundred percent, but he felt better prepared to face Richie, and he said as much to Jo and Mike.

“Caffeine, the miracle worker,” Mike declared, downing the remnants of his own cup. “Seriously, Bobby, we couldn’t let you go to Bellevue without doing everything we could to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I’d rather not let him go at all,” Jo growled.

“Jo…” Bobby started to argue, but she shook her head, holding up a hand to silence him.

“No, you’ve made up your mind. I’ve already gone on record saying I think it’s a big mistake. But in the end, it’s your choice.”

“Jo, please,” Bobby pleaded softly. “I need your support. I… I don’t like having you angry with me.”

She looked back at him for a long moment, her expression inscrutable, before she sighed and leaned across to muss his hair affectionately.

“Bobby, sweetheart, of course you’ve got my support. And I’m not angry with you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt any worse than you already have been. I’m worried that you’re opening yourself up to more hurt by doing this.”

“I know I am,” Bobby confessed. “No matter what his lawyer said… No matter what that letter said, I don’t believe Richie is in any way sorry for what he did.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Jo burst out. “If you know he’s just going to abusive towards you, why go?”

“Because I want him to see that he didn’t win,” Bobby said softly. “If I hide from him, he’ll know he’s beaten me. I want to be able to stand in front of him… scars and all… and see in his eyes that he knows I’ve won. I want to see the look on his face when he understands that at the end of it, I’m the one who can walk away while he’ll be locked up for the rest of his life. I… I want to see that in his face. I want him to know that he’s lost everything, while I’m going to move on with my life… whatever it brings.”

“This is why you never made a decision until the bandages came off,” Mike observed.

“I’d already made my mind up long before that first visit from Richie’s lawyer,” Bobby admitted. “But I didn’t say anything, because there was no way of knowing whether I would see again.”

“And what if you hadn’t gotten your sight back?” Jo asked piercingly. Bobby shook his head.

“I don’t know. I can’t say whether I would have been able to face him or not. But I can see, and I know that at least one of my hands will heal. Whatever happens from here on, I still have a chance at a future. Richie has no future. His life is over.”

Mike nodded.

“Okay, then. On that note, I think it’s time we got going. You ready, pal?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Bobby answered, holding back a sigh.

Richie had been sitting waiting for nearly forty-five minutes when the door of the interview room opened and Bobby walked in. For several seconds, the two brothers stared at each other, before Richie finally looked away.

“You took your sweet time,” he said harshly. “I’ve been sitting here waiting for nearly an hour.”

Bobby didn’t answer immediately. Walking over, he sat down opposite Richie on the other side of the table, pausing only long enough to note the fact that Richie was hand-cuffed to his chair. He let his breath out slowly and evenly as he sat, eager not to let Richie see how relieved he was to find his brother properly restrained.

“I think I’ve earned the right to take my time,” Bobby replied quietly. He rested his hands on the tabletop, and took a small amount of satisfaction in seeing Richie wince at the sight of them.

“You got my letter, then?” Richie asked. Bobby stared intently at his brother, head tilted slightly to compensate for the eye patch that he had to wear.

“Your lawyer delivered it. I want to get something straight right now, Richie. I’m not here for your sake. I’m here for mine.”

“Your sake. That’s nice. You’re not the one who’s gonna be locked away for the rest of his life. I cooperated with the cops, and that’s the deal I was offered. Life in a ‘suitable psychiatric facility’. Some fucking deal that is.”

Bobby didn’t flinch.

“You’re sick, Richie. You do know that, don’t you?”

Richie laughed hoarsely.

“Know it? Of course I know it. And you’ve got to love the irony. I was Dad’s favourite because I wasn’t anything like Mom. And now look at what’s happened. I’m looking at spending the rest of my life in the nuthouse, because I turned out exactly like her.”

“You’re nothing like her,” Bobby said softly. Richie raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really. So, what, you’ve just conveniently forgotten about all the times she beat the shit out of you, because it was the only way to save you from them? Fuck, Bobby. You’re even more deluded than I am.”

“Mom thought she was doing the right thing by me,” Bobby said firmly. “She thought she was saving me. It was her illness that kept her from understanding that all she was doing was hurting me.”

“And what about me, Bobby? What explanation are you going to pull out of your ass for me?”

“You wanted to kill me, Richie. You didn’t have any delusions about helping me. A couple of good friends helped me to realise that. You wanted me dead, and you made a damned good try of it.”

“No, see, Bobby, if I’d wanted you dead, you would have been dead. I saved your miserable life, you ungrateful bastard. Simon and Chops wanted you dead. They were going to kill you. I convinced them to let you live. You should be fucking thanking me! I protected you!”

Bobby leaned forward a little.

“Richie, you raped me with a metal poker. Don’t sit there and try to tell me you were just trying to protect me. That’s the schizophrenia talking.”

Silence fell as they sat staring at each other.

“You’re not going to forgive me, are you?” Richie asked bitterly. Bobby considered that for a moment before reaching up and carefully removing the dark glasses, revealing the extent of the damage to his eyes.

“Look at me, Richie. Take a good look.”

Richie looked at him just briefly before grimacing and looking away.

“And you’re asking me to forgive you?” Bobby asked as he slipped the dark glasses back on. “You can’t even look at me straight now.”

“I didn’t ask them to do all that to you!” Richie exploded.

“No. You just asked them to beat me and rape me.”

Richie rubbed his one free hand over his eyes.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Do you really want me to forgive you?” Bobby asked softly. “Is that really why you wanted to see me? Or did you just want to get a look at your handiwork?”

“Did you just come to rub my face in it? You always were a vindictive bastard, Bobby.”

“I’m not the one who set my brother up to be beaten, raped and killed. You look me in the eye, and tell me how I’m supposed to forgive that.”

Richie looked up at Bobby, anger in his eyes.

“You fucking hypocrite.”

“Hypocrite?” Bobby echoed, his voice starting to sound strained. “Me?”

“All I wanted was to say I’m sorry!” Richie burst out, tears abruptly filling his eyes. “I know I hurt you, Bobby. Goddamn it, I know that… I don’t know what I was thinking… or even if I was thinking. And I don’t know why I even let myself get so angry at you. Maybe it was just that I made such a fucking balls-up of my life, and you’re the one who’s managed to get his life together… and I was jealous of that. I know it’s no excuse. I know that. I feel sick to my stomach with guilt, thinking about what I did to you, and I’m going to pay for that every day for the rest of my life! I… I know I can’t expect you to forgive me, but can’t you at least say something?”

“What?” Bobby asked. “What do you want me to say?”

“Say you understand,” Richie pleaded. “Say something positive, please? I know that once you walk out of here, I’m probably never going to see you again. I know that. So can’t you bring yourself to just say one positive thing to me? Come on, Bobby, you owe me…”

On the other side of the glass, Mike tensed as he watched Bobby visibly freeze at Richie’s words.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. David Parker glanced at Mike and Jo placidly.

“He’s only being honest.”

Mike threw a look at Parker that literally caused him to cringe.

“He’s gets much more honest, and I’ll pull the plug on this meeting.”

“You can’t do that, Detective.”

“No?” Mike snapped. “Try me.”

“This is between Richie and his brother. We can’t interfere,” Parker argued.

“I’m here for Bobby’s wellbeing, not Richie’s,” Mike said. “If I think it’s in Bobby’s best interests to stop this, then I will. And you won’t be able to do anything about it.”

In the interview room, Bobby was staring at Richie incredulously.

“I owe you? How the hell do you figure that?”

When Richie didn’t answer, Bobby shook his head and got up.

“I’m leaving. We have nothing to say to each other.”

He was almost to the door when Richie spoke abruptly.

“I’m sorry, little bear.”

Bobby froze. Then, slowly, he turned back to face Richie.

“What did you say?”

“I said, I’m sorry, little bear. I made a promise to you a long time ago, and I broke it in the worst possible way. You trusted me once with your life, and I betrayed that trust. I let you down, Bobby, and I am so sorry for that.”

Slowly, Bobby walked back and sat down again.

“Little bear… You haven’t called me that since I was twelve years old.”

Richie smiled faintly.

“A lot of time has passed. I still think of you like that. Especially lately.” His smile faded. “I really am sorry, Bobby. I don’t understand myself why I did this to you. I promised Mom and I promised you that I’d look out for you… that I’d take care of you. I don’t think I’ve ever failed so spectacularly at anything in my life as I have now.”

“I can’t say it, Richie,” Bobby whispered. “I can’t say that I forgive you. I can’t even say I understand, because I don’t.”

Richie swallowed hard, and his shoulders slumped visibly.

“It… It’s okay, Bobby. You don’t have to say it. I understand. I don’t blame you for it. Just answer me one thing before you go?”

“What?”

“When I tell you that I love you, can you still bring yourself to believe that?”

Bobby’s stomach rolled uneasily.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted finally, and in that moment, Bobby saw no anger in Richie’s eyes. All he saw there was defeat. He’d won, they both knew it, and he felt no satisfaction in the victory whatsoever.

“Do you remember when you were eight?” Richie asked softly. “That time when Dad was gone for nearly two weeks, and Mom had another breakdown? The time when you were sick with pneumonia? You remember who was there for you then, Bobby?”

Bobby felt his chest tighten painfully as he deluged by the memories.

“You were.”

“I took care of you, then,” Richie agreed. “I sat with you, made sure you ate, and didn’t get dehydrated. I looked after you, Bobby. You were my little brother. I loved you. I still do.”

Tears spilled down Bobby’s cheeks.

“You raped me, Richie,” he whispered. “You beat me, and then you raped me. You can’t ask me to forgive that.”

“I’m being punished for it, Bobby. I’ll be punished for it by my conscience every goddamn day for the rest of my life. Isn’t that enough?”

“No!” Bobby exploded, his voice cracking. “No, it’s not enough! I have to live with the memories for the rest of my life. Don’t you dare compare your sentence to mine, because it doesn’t! It doesn’t compare…”

Bobby gave a shudder and pushed himself up from the table.

“Enough. I’m leaving. This is over.”

“Bobby,” Richie called out to him as Bobby waited at the door for someone to let him out. “I made a horrible mistake. I know that, and now I have to live with the consequences of my actions. You better think hard about whether you’re making a mistake by walking out that door now, and whether you can live with the consequences of your choices.”

Bobby stood stiffly in the open doorway for a long minute, and it seemed that he was going to be drawn back, when Mike suddenly appeared in his line of sight, and laid a hand supportively on his shoulder.

“C’mon, Bobby. Let’s get outta here.”

Bobby nodded and, without so much as a parting glance at his brother, he followed Mike and Jo out of the hospital.

Not a word was spoken as they left the hospital. Once they were back in the SUV, Mike forced a cheerful smile onto his face and looked from Bobby to Jo.

“Where to, then? One Police Plaza? Or do you want to play truant and clear off somewhere for the day? Personally, I’m up for playing truant. The instant I set foot in that place, I’ll get buried under a mound of paperwork.”

Jo smirked at him.

“That’s your fault for trying to dump it all on poor Bobby. You should have known Jim would catch on to what you were doing sooner or later.”

Mike smiled and shrugged.

“Hey, can you blame me? So what are we going to do now?”

“Well,” Jo mused, “we could always…”

“I’m tired,” Bobby said softly, cutting Jo off before she could make a suggestion. “I want to go home.”

Mike bit back a sigh. He’d hoped that Bobby might have been willing to go some place where they could talk about what had just happened. He knew what would happen if they simply took Bobby home. He would withdraw into his protective shell and refuse to come out again until he was good and ready.

“Hey,” he suggested in a last ditch effort, “I know a great little café. They serve the best veal ptarmigan…”

“Please,” Bobby asked again. He looked over at Mike and for a brief moment Mike caught a glimpse of his friend’s pain and misery. “Mike… just take me home.”

Mike conceded with a nod.

“Okay, Bobby. We’ll take you home.”

Mike had honestly expected Bobby to retreat into the sanctuary of his bedroom the instant that they walked through the door. To both his surprise and Jo’s, Bobby instead made his way over and dropped into his armchair with a thud. He and Jo exchanged a puzzled but hopeful look. Maybe, just maybe, Bobby wasn’t going to retreat and hide from everyone this time.

“Tell me what you want, Bobby,” Jo asked softly. Bobby looked up at her with a tearful gaze that all but broke her heart.

“For none of this to have happened,” he whispered. Biting lightly on her lower lip, Jo sat down carefully on the arm of the chair and gently drew him to her in a warm, comforting embrace. A moment later, she felt a shudder pass through him, and the tears came in a flood.

“That’s it, baby,” she murmured, hugging him fiercely and planting soft kisses on the top of his head. “Let it out, honey. Just let it all go.”

No more words were spoken for a while. No words were necessary.

Half an hour later, Bobby did finally retreat to his bedroom, and was soon sleeping soundly.

“Well,” Jo said wearily as she and Mike left him sleeping and returned to the living area, “I was hoping we could have gotten him to talk about it, but I think that was even better than talking.”

Mike nodded his agreement.

“God willing, he might actually be able to go for a while without any nightmares.”

“I still believe he made the wrong choice,” Jo insisted as they sat with fresh mugs of coffee. “Richie wasn’t after forgiveness. He only wanted to manipulate Bobby.”

“He’s some piece of work,” Mike agreed ruefully. “I can understand Bobby’s point of view in wanting to face him, though. I’m not saying I agree with it, but I do understand. He needed to be able to close the book on his brother, and he’s the only one who could. We could say all we liked about it, but in the end Bobby had to do it his own way, and in his own time. He’s done that now, and maybe he’ll finally be able to really start recovering. You’ll see, Jo. He’s confronted this demon now. It won’t take him long to dismiss it.”

Jo grimaced as she sipped her coffee and glanced over at Bobby’s bedroom door.

“I hope you’re right, Mike.”

Mike turned his attention to the mug in his hands, hoping that Jo didn’t catch the fleeting uncertainty that he was sure had been visible on his face. He hoped he was right, too. He really did.

For nearly three hours, Alex only made a pretence of doing the paperwork. She was anxious for word on how Bobby had coped with the visit to Bellevue, and she was growing increasingly agitated with each hour that passed. When Deakins finally called her into his office just before noon, it was all she could do not to run. Making a conscious effort to keep her breathing even, she walked into Deakins’ office and sat down.

The captain eyed her with a small smile.

“You don’t have to play-act, Alex. I know damned well that you’re just as frantic as I’ve been.”

She couldn’t bring herself to smile.

“Have you heard anything yet?”

“I just spoke to Logan. He said it didn’t go too well, but Bobby seems to be okay. A little upset, but otherwise okay.”

Alex stared at him incredulously.

“A little? I’m assuming they didn’t just kiss and make up here.”

“You’d assume right,” Deakins confirmed. “According to Mike, Richie tried to manipulate Bobby, to make him feel guilty. Mike said Bobby didn’t buy it for a second. And he was the one to put an end to it in the finish. Not Mike, or anyone else. Mike said Bobby never lost control. It wasn’t a pleasant encounter, but he came through it with minimal damage.”

Alex sighed softly, and visibly relaxed.

“Thank God. Captain, would you mind if I…?”

“Go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. And Alex…?”

Alex looked back as she reached the door.

“Yes?”

“Tell Mike thankyou for me.”

Alex smiled tiredly.

“I’ll thank him for both of us.”

Bobby awoke to the comforting sensation of fingers lightly stroking his cheek and forehead. Slowly, he allowed himself to be drawn back into awareness, and found himself looking up at his partner’s caring smile.

“Alex…?”

“Hey, you,” she murmured. “How are you feeling?”

He hesitated in answering that, wanting to give as honest an answer as he could.

“Been better,” he said finally. “Been worse. It… hurts.”

“Did you think it wouldn’t?” she asked seriously. He sighed and shook his head.

“No. I knew it would be hard. I just… I don’t know. I don’t know what I was hoping for.”

“Resolution,” Alex offered. “You were hoping that Richie really was sorry. But he wasn’t, was he?”

“No. Not really. He’s feeling guilty, but I don’t think he feels that way because of what he did. His illness… He’s partly convinced himself that he kept Matic and Cozza from killing me. He thought I should have been grateful.”

Alex snorted in disgust.

“Right. He really is living in another reality now, isn’t he?”

“I can’t do it anymore, Alex,” Bobby whispered. “It’s over.”

Alex felt a chill settle in her gut at his words. She hoped he didn’t mean what she thought he meant, but she just didn’t know for sure looking at his bruised face.

“You can’t do what anymore, Bobby?”

“The whole caring brother charade,” he answered. “I did love Richie once… a long time ago. But I’m tired. I barely have enough strength to help myself without worrying about trying to help him too. I… I won’t have anymore to do with him. I can’t. Not if I’m going to survive this.”

Alex couldn’t hide the relief she felt, and she lay down carefully next to him on the bed, still stroking his cheek tenderly. A small, crooked smile creased Bobby’s lips.

“You thought I meant something else.”

It was not a question, and Alex couldn’t see the point of lying. It would do neither of them any good.

“Yes,” she said. “You scared me for a second, there.”

“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted softly. “More than once. But then I think about that night, and everything I went through. I… I figure if I could survive that, then I can survive this. Right?”

She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

“Right. And we’re all here for you, Bobby. Me, Mike, Jo, Captain Deakins… Olivia and Elliot… You’re not alone.”

He continued to smile at her, even as his eyes fluttered closed again.

“I know.”

The following morning

“Excuse me… Detective Goren?”

Bobby looked up in vague surprise to find one of the civil staff standing there by his desk. He’d been so caught up in the papers he was reading that he hadn’t heard her approach. He paused for just moment, searching his memory for her name.

“Emma, isn’t it?”

She smiled and blushed, and it was with some effort that he didn’t grin openly in response. It seemed that even with the scarring from his attack, he still had the knack of making the office girls quiver. Quietly, he was glad Alex and Mike weren’t around right at that moment. Otherwise, he could have fully expected a real hazing from them both over flirting with the office girls. Even if he didn’t actually mean to…

“That’s right,” Emma said shyly. “I was asked to bring this up to you. It was dropped off at the front desk downstairs a little while ago.”

Bobby’s gaze went to the envelope she held in her hands. It was a regular sized envelope, sealed with only his name on the front. He glanced around quickly, but Jo was nowhere in sight. She’d offered to get him a decent cup of coffee from Starbucks (though his excitement at being back in One Police Plaza had not yet worn off, his tolerance of the bullpen coffee had) and apparently had not yet come back.

“Would you open it for me, please?” he asked. When she hesitated, Bobby smiled apologetically and held up his hands. “I’m still having trouble picking things up.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” Emma gasped, reddening even more. “Of course, just a second…”

Bobby swallowed the urge to smirk openly as she slit the envelope open, pulled out a single page and set it down on the desk in front of him.

“Okay, Detective?”

He smiled at her warmly.

“Thankyou, Emma.”

She blushed again, and trotted off towards the lifts. Bobby watched her go, not quite able to keep himself from admiring the rear view, before returning his attention to the letter in front of him. Seconds later, every ounce of warmth drained out of him as he recognised his brother’s scratchy hand-writing. His breath caught in his throat and for a split second he considered putting it in the bin without reading a word. Then, slowly, curiosity overcame common sense, and he began to read.

Captain Deakins looked up, startled, as his office door banged open and Bobby stumbled in, white-faced.

“Bobby? What’s wrong?”

“Please,” Bobby said hoarsely. “I need you to call Bellevue. Someone has to check on Richie.”

Deakins stared up at him, baffled and concerned.

Bobby, sit. I want to you to calm down, and tell me what’s wrong.”

Instead of sitting, though, Bobby slapped the crumpled page down on Deakins’ desk in front of him.

“For God’s sake, be careful!” Deakins burst out as Bobby winced at the sharp pain through his fingers that the gesture caused.

“Please,” Bobby begged him. “Just call? I need to know that he’s okay. Please…”

Frowning, Deakins picked up the phone and dialled the number. It was answered on the third ring.

“…Yes, this Captain James Deakins, of the NYPD. I’m calling to inquire about the welfare of one of your high security patients, Richard Goren… Yes, I’ll hold.”

As tinny music issued from the earpiece, Deakins looked back up at Bobby.

“I’m sure everything’s fine… Yes, I’m still here.” Deakins fell silent, and even as Bobby watched, the captain’s face literally drained of colour. “When did this happen…? And when, exactly, were you planning on notifying us? Really… No, not yet. I’ll be in touch later. Thankyou.”

Deakins hung the phone up, drew in an unsteady breath, and looked back up at Bobby.

“Sit down, Bobby.”

“What’s happened?” Bobby asked hoarsely. Deakins motioned to the chair.

“Bobby, sit down.”

He put an extra dose of authority into his voice, and it had the desired effect. Bobby sat with a thud, borderline panic on his face.

“Captain, please, just tell me.”

Still Deakins hesitated, unsure of just how much he should divulge. Finally, though, he conceded, knowing he couldn’t hide the truth… or the pain that the truth would bring… indefinitely.

“Bobby… Richie’s dead.”

Bobby sat frozen, his face colourless with shock.

“How?”

“You don’t need to know those details,” Deakins told him softly. When Bobby opened his mouth to protest, Deakins cut him off. “No, Bobby. I’m not kidding. You really do not need to hear it.”

“Was it murder?” Bobby asked, feeling an irrational surge of hope.

“No,” Deakins answered. “It wasn’t murder. And it wasn’t an accident. The coroner will have to submit a report, but according to the doctor, it appears to have been suicide.”

Bobby didn’t respond. Indeed, he no longer seemed to even be seeing the captain. As Deakins watched, his breath started to hitch in his chest as he struggled to breathe evenly. Sensing a looming panic attack, Deakins hurried from his office to go and get some water from the break room for the detective. He was just emerging with a glass when he caught sight of Bobby disappearing out of the bullpen, around the corner to where the lifts were.

Cursing softly, Deakins set the water back down and took off after Bobby. He got to the lifts just as the doors closed. He banged the down button to no avail. The lift began its downward descent, taking Bobby with it.

Deciding against waiting for the next lift, Deakins ran to the stairwell and began to make his way down as fast as he could without going head over heels. He could only hope that the lift would make enough stops on the way to the lobby that he would be able to beat it down.

He emerged into the lobby at a run, but a quick glance revealed both lifts to be open and empty. He scanned the lobby frantically, and finally spotted the big detective at the main doors. Desperate to keep Bobby from running, Deakins shouted aloud, “Goren, stop!”

Startled silence descended on the lobby and, briefly, Bobby looked back at Deakins. For a split second the two men stared at each other from opposite ends of the lobby. Then, Bobby pushed through the glass doors in the open quad beyond.

Deakins shot forward, dodging several people in his rush to follow. He burst through the doors into the sunlight, blinking hard for a moment as he scanned the area for any sign of his detective.

It was too late. Bobby was gone.