She heard the telltale buzz as she lay there on her parents' couch, staring at the shadows that were being cast from the lights given off by the Christmas tree. She'd wanted to go home, earlier, but it turned out that she hadn't had the heart to leave and go back to an empty house where the only company she'd have was that bird of hers. So she'd stayed, much to her mother's joy, and her father's mock-annoyance, but Alex knew that he'd have rather had her there than anywhere else, and so had paid him no mind at all. At least some things were still normal, she mused, and bit her lip to keep a bitter laugh from escaping her at the thought.
She had lost track of how many of those who'd been in her parents' home that day had asked her where Bobby was. All of her siblings, her parents…even some of her nieces and nephews. He was a hard figure to miss, Alex thought, it was no wonder they'd noticed he wasn't there, the way he always had been before. This was the first year that any irritation she'd been feeling towards her partner had carried over into this season, and she'd tried to invite him, but he'd declined, the way he'd tried to do in years before, but before, she'd refused to take no for an answer, and this year, when he'd told her he didn't want to intrude, she'd shrugged and walked off without him.
It had hurt more than she'd thought it was, and then there was the fact that Ross had been standing there watching them, looking for all the world like wanted to say something, and had it been Deakins, she wouldn't have cared, but it wasn't, and she'd glared over at their new captain (because she still couldn't help but think of him that way), as if she were daring him to say anything. Apparently, Ross had known better than to make a comment, and had kept his mouth shut, something that Alex found herself relieved about; he'd told her at the beginning to keep an eye on her partner, and now he was keeping an eye on the both of them, and it was driving her up the wall.
The last thing she wanted was a lecture about letting personal lives get in the way of work, a lecture about keeping things appropriate between herself and her partner. Logan had made the off-handed remark that they'd been acting like an old married couple lately, what with the silent treatment unless it had to do with a case. He hadn't meant anything by it, but both she and Bobby had glared at him, silently daring him to say anything else, him and Wheeler both, but neither of them had commented, and Wheeler hadn't in the first place, though she'd looked almost amused by what her partner had said. Things had been quiet in the Major Case Squad that day, almost as if the rest of them were afraid of pissing off the so-called 'great' Goren and Eames…Alex snorted at this thought.
They were anything but great now. Even the letter hadn't done as much damage as this; she'd played it off by a comment about the attorney; he'd played it off by making a comment about being an acquired taste, and she'd felt guilty then the same way she did now, because, yeah, he was an acquired tasted, but damn it, it had been six years, and if she hadn't acquired it by now even after that stupid letter, then she was more of an idiot than she thought she was. And thinking she was an idiot wasn't something Alex liked to do; she was perfectly willing to admit she was wrong, but didn't like feeling stupid because of it. And this time…well, this time, it was just too damn confusing for her to even want to think about, because she wasn't sure who was right and who was wrong this time around.
She wanted to think that Bobby was wrong, and knew that he wasn't, because she'd been rude, somewhat, too, asking him what the hell that little fit of his in the squad room in front of Ross and Dockerty had been, and then he'd told her to back off, and she supposed she deserved it on some levels, but it still hurt like hell, and so she'd given him the cold shoulder. He was right, in some ways, she thought, for telling her in essence to leave him alone; she'd known there had been some issue going on, and had wanted to know, but had really no right to ask, and he'd had every right to tell her so, but he sure as hell didn't have to be so blunt about it. He never had been before, and truth be told, it had scared her.
But not enough for her to want to let him see it, which was what the cold shoulder had been for, and she knew she was wrong for it, but this was one of those rare cases where she didn't want to admit it, and she hated it, because she knew that he'd been hurting, and had done nothing. It wasn't something she ever wanted to happen again, but he wasn't talking to her, and she wasn't talking to him, unless it had to do with a case, and even then, they could only talk so much about dead bodies and motives and when she wanted to vent about how much of an idiot Ross was, it had to be under her breath, one, so that the aforementioned figure wouldn't hear, and two, because she knew that Bobby probably wasn't listening, and probably didn't care.
Didn't care. She bit back another bitter laugh at this thought; the world really would come to an end the day he didn't care, she mused, but it really felt like he didn't anymore. And after that rant he'd gone on when Ross had told them just to finish up the paperwork on the Dockerty case…'Go ahead and fire me,' he'd said, and a sudden cold feeling settled over Alex again, the same one that had come as she stood there in the squad room, watching her partner's retreating figure. She'd found herself this close to showing up at his apartment that night, if only to beg him to stay. But he had come back the next day, and she'd eyed him warily, waiting for something, anything, but nothing had come, and there had been that look, that awful blank look in his eyes, the one that usually meant he was just tired and in want of sleep, but there was something else that time, and that something had lingered.
She knew that look too well, the other one, the one that was hidden behind the tiredness and the façade he put on so she wouldn't see what he was really feeling, but damned if being partnered with him for so long hadn't taught her a few things. Those profiling skills had rubbed off, Alex thought, she could tell by looking at him even now, a month later, that he was still hurting, that there was still something there keeping him in pain, whether it was the issues he wouldn't tell her about, or the fact that she was barely talking to him, which, she thought at this, it went both ways; he wasn't exactly talking to her either. But the look bothered her, even though she tried to ignore it, bothered her because she knew it, because she had worn the same look, one of the desperation that came with wanting to give it all up but knowing that she couldn't.
The last time she'd felt that way was eight years ago, and now she was feeling that way again, and she hated it, hated it because she'd screwed up, they'd both screwed up, and she'd been trying to find a way to fix it, had almost expected Bobby to have a way long before she did, but there had been nothing, and she was scared, more than she was willing to admit, because if he couldn't find a way to fix this mess between them, then maybe there really wasn't a way, and the partnership she'd found herself reveling in for the past six years was really unraveling, and damn it, that wasn't what she wanted. But if it was what he wanted…She didn't want to think about it, but knew that if was what he wanted, it was what he would get; she would leave, there were plenty of squad she could fit into, but she knew he'd found his niche in Major Case, and it wouldn't do him any good to be shoved out now, screw whatever he'd said to Ross.
Then again, she didn't really want to leave, either; she liked the Major Case Squad, or rather, she had before all these damn changes had started coming along, before things had become uncertain, and they'd lost one captain to gain another, one detective to gain another…It was odd, and Alex knew it, but that was the way the department worked, it, too, was unpredictable, the way her partnership currently was, and she was this close to going off on someone, but knew that it wasn't the way to go, especially if she wanted to remain where she was. Protocol be damned, she thought, the department can expect us to act as proper as they think we should be, but there'll still be those few that screw things up no matter what, or rather, appear to screw things up, and her partner was one of them, but damned if she didn't love him all the more for it.
She'd confided in her sister earlier on, when they'd gone up to the room they'd shared to sprawl out over their beds and stare up at the ceiling, like they were teenagers again, only they were both grown, and their issues were a lot more pressing now than they had been back then. Her sister had listened, and had offered a sympathetic shoulder to cry on when she'd finally broken down, and admitted that she hated this, hated that she couldn't talk to Bobby, and that he couldn't talk to her, and that it was stupid because they'd been able to work through everything else before, and still come out all right, and why the hell couldn't they work through it this time?
But it was more complicated than that, and Alex knew it, or rather, she thought that it was, because truth be told, she didn't really know, and didn't think she wanted to know for fear of what would happen if she were to ever find out. That damn letter was nothing compared to this, she thought, hell, nothing in the world seemed to be anything compared to this, and it bothered her, because she knew that once the long weekend was over, it was back to their so-called normalcy, to not talking unless it had to do with a case, but as she reflected on it, things were going up and down again, they were talking and then they weren't, and he was withdrawing, but given everything in his life, she couldn't blame him.
Things had always been more complicated for him than they had been for her, and she felt guilty for thinking it, because she had everything he wanted, everything he had always wanted, and she knew it, knew it because the last time she'd dragged him to one of her family gatherings, she'd seen a look of longing in his eyes. She wondered for a moment if that was what was making her feel guilty, because, whether or not she wanted to think of it that way, she supposed it could be taken as her flaunting what she had and what he did not have. It bothered her. It wasn't how she'd ever meant things to be seen, but if it had been…screw that, Alex thought, he'd have said something if it had been. Or so she thought. Before, she'd have been sure about it, but now, she wasn't, and it bothered her more than anything else.
But that was another matter, one to worry about later; now, the only thing she had to worry about was the sound of little feet running downstairs in the morning; some of her siblings and their children had spent the night as well, and she hadn't slept at all. No, she'd spent most of the night thinking, at least, she had ever since the clock had hit midnight, and she wanted to sleep, but couldn't. And then, on top of that, there was that buzz, the one that had come from her phone, telling her she had a text message, and she didn't really want to know who it was from, but at the same time she did. So she sat up, and bent down, reaching for her coat, fishing through the pockets until she found it, and flipped it open. The message appeared on the small screen instantly, and she was startled to find herself blinking back tears, because it was from him, and it was the last thing she'd expected, but it was just something he'd do, and now he'd done it, just when she was the one thinking that she should be the first to offer the proverbial olive branch.
"Eames…I'm sorry," it said, and she shook her head, biting back the desire to laugh, but this time, it was more out of amusement than anything else, and it was her partner all right, to the point and leaving no doubt as to what he meant, like he did sometimes, leaving her guessing just to get on her nerves, but he'd always tell her what he'd meant in the end, and she couldn't help but hope that maybe this meant they were back to normal, though she knew it was going to take more than this for them to get there. Especially if the apology was only one-sided.
And it wasn't going to be. She looked at the message for what felt like forever, but was really only a few seconds, before finally moving herself to send off a reply, one that she hoped would be part of the first step towards fixing their currently fractured partnership.
"I'm sorry, too."