I need somewhere for myself

I need to take a minute and decide just when my life got this crazy...

Mon, 09 May 2005 22:28:31 GMT

***
Well, I said I'd take over until the person playing Alex could come back to the game. So here I am. There are references to plot devices, and the outline of one character in particular (Ella), used in 'Fearless,' again. Specifically the first twelve, just like with my fic, 'Retribution.' I in no way want to plagarize Francine Pascal's excellent story. Well, I loved those first twelve books, anyway; not to mention 'Gaia, Abducted,' the second semi-stand alone (besides 'Before Gaia,' which was the first), which is excellent. I really need to buy my own copy. Anyway, there is also reference to an 'incident' in the second of _ehakus_'s Bobby and Matthew kid/teenfics that she wrote for me. I'd like to expand on that...
***

The relief of SVU finally finding Aeryn has dulled slightly with the knowledge that we now have to put her through a trial and, probably, make her face the son of a bitch who tortured her for a week. (I don't know what to feel after hearing just what his daughter did to him; but about her being back in the hospital, I can't say I'm upset or moved at all...). Not only that, but the bastard has stripped her of any trust she had for her father and grandfather, who is devastated and—from what I gather—thinks he should die a slow death for things that aren’t his fault. Dr. Huang, the forensic psychiatrist who evaluated both Bobby and Jack last week, came to tell us the good—and bad—news this evening. So, naturally, the celebration was subdued. Tom and Samantha are torn between elation that their little girl has been found, and horror and misery at the fact that she can’t come near them for several more months as she needs time to heal from what Wallace…did to her. It was suggested that she come to live with Bobby, Jack, and I after we move into a new place. Somewhere far away from her parent’s apartment, as well as her grandfather’s—which they’ll probably move out of and order burned to the ground. Or I think I would, anyway. It was also recommended that I become a proper aunt to her. Because, apparently, Bobby Goren listens to me more than anyone else and Jack listens to both of us. It’s already apparent that she’ll need a lot of personal space and if anyone can give it to her, it’d be Bobby and Jack. Of course, we accepted.

So now I can take time to think and get all this out.

Over the last week and a half, my life has become completely unrecognizable. The only constant has really been Bobby and even he has changed. He's a father now; has been one for over seventeen years and he never knew it. He never had the privilege of watching his little boy grow up. And it's because one woman decided it was more fun playing with his emotions and his mind than to give this boy a chance at a decent life. I'm eternally grateful to Dr. Chalerm and Jack isn't even mine. Well...he is now, but he wasn't before last week. He wasn't anyone's, really, and that's part of what is so terrible about all of this. Jack doesn't look anything like his biological...mother...and that's one sign someone up there is on our side. He's every inch his father's son. Even that brain of his is all Goren. But it's been difficult, thinking about the fact that Bobby believed I hated him for it all. I admit, I was angry when I first found out, but it wasn't at him. Whatever Bobby thought, I've never, nor will I ever, hate him. My anger was, as usual, directed toward a certain bitch who shall never be mentioned in what has become our family.

Family.

I feel very fortunate because my entire life I've had real family. Parents who loved me and my brother and sister. Who could take care of us. Who we didn't have to fear. Who didn't abandon us for one reason or another. But I have to be fair to Anthony. The FBI—well-known for screwing over any and everyone they can—put him in a terrible position and forced him to leave Bobby in the hands of strangers. He and I were talking about his childhood last night. After he was taken away from his mother by NYCS, that is. How his foster families didn't know how to deal with him. The second family should have been more equipped to do so, as Bobby's foster father--a man named Richard Keats--had known his father for years and even instructed him in the Green Berets. He genuinely liked Bobby, apparently, and the two of them would have long chess matches and talk about the arts and sciences. I liked hearing about this man, Keats. It's his wife who turns my stomach...at first.

Bobby told me about how she was vapid and shallow she seemed. How at first she didn't give him any illusions that she might like him.

"She told me...she had wanted me dead. That she'd tried to have me killed. The night she died."

He turned on his side then, away from me. I was still in shock, but I managed to get enough control over myself to wrap my arms around him. I felt him instantly try to inch away. He was upset and when he's like that he tries to move away from any human contact, but I'd explained to him that the point of being touched when you're upset is to make you feel better. He told me he'd try and...he did. After a second, he remembered his promise and lay back in my arms. He was shaking, then, as he continued. His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him, but he didn't move away again.

"She had been under the control of some of my father's enemies for so long…she'd forgotten who she was. I-I remember she used t-to have these photographs she'd t-taken. In the hallway. Cutesy, moronic photographs. The shallow kind of stupid, clichéd things that Richard so lovingly called 'art.' Bleargh. She took me t-to Alphabet City the night she died. To this miniscule hell of an apartment. I found out who she really was that night. There were photographs there, as well. But these were…were good ones. Of people...the sky at dusk somewhere where you can see the moon just starting to come out. Where the sky is a swirl of blues and there’s obviously not a car in sight. There were books, real books and not just vapid ‘fashion’ magazines full of stick figures wearing too much mascara and little strips of fabric masquerading as skirts. Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Hawthorne.

“There were postcards of…art. It was obvious that she would’ve had the original versions there if she could’ve allowed it. But they would’ve been stolen and while that’s not the end of the world, that’s not why you get paintings. You get them so you can look at them, not so a drug addict can get their next fix. So she had postcards. Anyway, she brought me there and explained to me what she’d been doing those last few months. How she’d hated me because it seemed like I wasn’t letting myself be under anyone’s control. How she wished she could’ve gone to Matthew’s with me, those nights I would not come back. She laughed at that, actually. She’d met Matthew only once and she’d told me exactly what she’d thought of him as soon as his father had come to pick him up. Or so she’d let me think. She told me that night that he seemed like a good boy. Smart. A little wild, a little…uninhibited, but then so was I. She said we were a good match as friends. She asked me why I didn’t seem to enjoy talking to people and making small talk. And why I ran away to be alone all the time. I told her about people make me uncomfortable. It was the first, last, and only real conversation we ever had. She sent me out around sunrise to go find some decent breakfast because she didn’t have anything I would’ve eaten there. When I came back...”

He broke off and I pulled myself up to look at his face. I was surprised to find him pale and his eyes vacant and deadened. “She was dead,” I whispered, my heart hurting for him.

“The KGB doesn’t like renegade agents anymore than the FBI does. Only in this country, we pretend to court-martial them before we execute them.”

“Was she Russian?” I whispered, thinking she was. Bobby shook his head ‘no.’

“She was an American operative for them, the same way my uncle had operatives in other countries. Anyway, I found her body. I didn’t examine it, like Jack did with Dr. Chalerm. I was too upset to do that. I had a meltdown, actually. I cried and couldn’t stop because she cared for me and tried to protect me from herself and everyone above her. Then someone took her away. I’d grown to like her and then she was dead. I’d never seen a dead body up close at that point. Little did I know that six months later I’d find Richard dead in the hallway of that old brownstone.”

My hand flew up to cover my mouth and my heart broke a little further for him. He was shaking even more and something occurred to me. Bobby once told me that he’d been skipped up three grades in school. Matthew had been skipped up two before taking AP classes over a summer to catch up to him. They both could’ve graduated from high school very early.

“Bobby, how old were you when all this happened?” I tried to prepare myself for the answer, but...

“Thirteen. I’d just had my bar mitzvah one month and two days beforehand. It was September 22nd, 1974. I was in the eleventh grade by then. Matthew and I could’ve graduated when we were fifteen, but we took more AP classes instead so we’d graduate with everyone else. Matthew hadn’t wanted to leave just yet, and—to be honest—neither had I. I love New York.”

I sighed, then, and smiled sadly. “You’re really quite skilled at dodging questions and changing the subject, did you know that?” I whispered, stroking the grey hairs in his left sideburn.

“Lots of practice,” he murmured. The same answer he gave me when I told him he’d been good talking to Howard, that homeless man who had bipolar disorder. Just like his best friend. I hadn’t known much about his mother, then, and I hadn’t known anything at all about Matthew. Considering what I’ve found out, I really don’t know very much about Bobby’s early life at all. And he doesn’t know very much about when I was younger, either. In this last week and a half…these last two days…I’ve learned more about my partner than I’ve known in the last four years. Though it’s certainly more than almost anyone else, with the exception of Anthony, Matthew, and Scully and Mulder. They’ve known him much longer than I have and every new discovery these last few days have felt like startling revelations. I have to say I feel very fortunate. Captain Deakins told me, back when Bobby and I first started working together, that he really didn’t know very much about him. I found this a bit hard to believe because I’d heard him mention Bobby for years, though I hadn’t known him personally at that point. He’s known Bobby for twelve years and he knows even less than I (now) do. However, since I’ve come to know Bobby, I can see why that would be the case. Most of what I know about him as come through similarities he’s seen in himself with various victims, material witnesses, or perps. Never have we had anything approaching small talk. I don’t mind; I know he needs time to put his thoughts—incessant as they are—in order. Besides, nonstop chatter bothers me almost as much as it does him. The only exception is probably my nieces and nephews, and—now—John. When he gets going on a subject he likes, it’s like watching the History Channel or the Discovery Channel. For that matter, put him and Bobby together in front of a documentary, and there’s always an interesting result. But maybe that’s because Gorens tend to grow on me pretty fast. I’d like to get to know Bobby’s father a bit more, but I think he believes I still hate him. That’s a Goren trait I’d be glad for them all to be rid of—

“Alex,” Bobby’s voice is insistent. He’s turned over now and his face is watching me with mild concern. This means he’s on the verge of shaking me. “What’s wrong?”

I have to look at him, then, before I am reminded that his emotional response is drastically different from mine. I then raise an eyebrow in question. “You told me last night about how you practically witnessed your foster mother’s murder at the age of thirteen—a situation startlingly similar to your own son’s—and you’re asking ME what’s wrong? Do you know how wrong THAT is, Bobby?”

He frowns then and looks down, hesitating for a moment before wrapping his arms around me before he plantes his face in my scalp and is momentarily silent. “You weren’t saying anything anymore. I was afraid.”

This gives me pause. Afraid of what, exactly? I think I’m the one who should be afraid for HIM. My...partner...pretend husband...significant other or something special like that…is explaining to me parts of what has amounted to a horrifying childhood and adolescence and he’s afraid for ME. All I want is to hide him somewhere where the terror and sadness he’s continually up against can’t get him, but he’s afraid for me. I should be and AM the one afraid I'm going to lose him, to himself. To some evil asshole's bullet or knife. To Nicole Wallace, were she given the chance. I don't know what I would do if I had to go through that again.

“I’m still here, Bobby, I always will be.” I mean that and I believe he gets it because some of the fear in his dark eyes dissipates. He pulled me on top of his chest and we lay like that for a little while. “You know that.” Then I take a deep breath.
Suddenly, though, Bobby takes a deep breath at the same time. “Alexandra Eames...will you marry me?”

"W-what?" Smooth, Eames. Real smooth. The man has abandonment issues coming out of his ears and you can't even answer him when he...proposes to you.

"B-bobby...but..." Oh, and that was SO much better.

And his face goes blank, then.

Oh God.

quite possibly one of the strangest situations ever.

Mon, 21 Feb 2005 03:52:17 GMT

OOC: Sorry I haven't been updating. School got a bit hectic for the first three weeks. But I got it all under control now. And missed a lot apparently. But I'm back now. Thanks for being patient with me. :)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I chuckled internally as I heard Bobby tossing and turning. I had to admit, while I had an inkling there would only be one bed, seeing it in person is a much different story. I'm not sure why, but my heart jumped when I stepped through that door. I knew Bobby was taken off guard when he saw the setup; he most likely thought that they would have set up 2 single beds. Which would have certainly thrown off anyone believing we were the happy family.

The happy family. I smiled to myself at that thought. I wanted to be a part of that. That's how I pictured my life growing up. Then I became a cop, and my life plans changed. Yes, I'm happy with it. But sometimes I find myself daydreaming about what my life would have been like if I hadn't become a cop. I see kids running around a big backyard. A boy and a girl; I never see my husband, but I know he's there. And lately, the little boy has changed. I can never really see him, but he has taken on a familiar gait to his walk. But I haven't been able to really place it. So I plan to take advantage of our situation, and live in my own little fantasy world. At least until we have to go back to the real world.

I also found Bobby's confusion about the closet amusing. Although, I'm not sure confusion is the right word. I was lost for a split second as to why he was just standing in front of the closet. But then I remembered seeing his closet at home. Everything had a place, and nothing deviated from where it was supposed to be. I tried to reassure him that everything would be okay, though he didn't seem very convinced. He finally gave in and let me help him unload his trunk. Then I sent him to bed, because I know he hasn't been sleeping.

Which brings me to now. I know Bobby has finally fallen asleep. I can hear his deep, even breathing, and I'm so grateful. I knew his exhaustion would catch up with him, but I didn't realize how bad it had gotten. I closed out my email account (nothing new, which didn't surprise me), and went to get myself ready for bed. It was strange to me. I wasn't used to having another person in the same room, let alone the same bed. I grabbed some pyjamas and went into the adjoining bathroom. I wasn't sure for my seemingly sudden modesty, but I chalked it up to the strange surroundings and being uncomfortable. I quickly brushed my teeth, all the while staring at the toothbrush and men's travel bag sitting on the opposite side of the sink. As I finished, I unconsciously left our room, and walked down the hall to check on Jack. Once I saw that he too, was fast asleep, succumbed to his own exhaustion at the day's events, I went back into the master bedroom. I didn't realize what I had done until I had slid in between the cool cotton sheets, and switched off the light. I shook my head at the maternal instincts that had been awakened in me, I wasn't sure quite what had come over me. But it was too late to think about now. I curled up under the comforter, and looked over my shoulder to see my partner, trying to make himself as small as possible, even in sleep; he has moved as far to the edge of the bed as he can, without falling off. I wasn't sure what that strange stab of emotion in my chest was as I saw that, it felt like loneliness, but I couldn't be positive. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and finally drifted off to sleep.

Please let this be it...

Tue, 18 Jan 2005 01:42:54 GMT

I hung up with Deakins, and went back to concentrating on my driving. It would do Aeryn no good for me to get into an accident. Wouldn't do Bobby much good either. I'm not sure where that last thought came from, but it was completely true. I was one of the few that understood him, and that he wasn't insane. But back to the matter at hand. Munch had just called saying they had information, and no sooner had I hung up with him, Deakins called with an address. Which is where I'm trying to get to now.

All different scenarios are flying through my head, as I make my way to the address hastily scribbled on the back of a gas receipt. First, I'm just hoping Aeryn is okay and unharmed. Then I'm hoping the man who took her is there, because I would like nothing more than to slap those cuffs on him for what he did to the Goren family. Actually, I'd like to do a lot more than that. But given my job, I can't. Or I would be no better than the people we lock up on a daily basis.

Fifteen tense minutes later, I pulled up in front of a stately looking rowhouse, on the upper side of the city. I couldn't believe that it was the house of a pedophile, but one never knows in this day and age. I saw the SVU squad cars already parked in front, and pulled up in an empty space behind them. I walk in cautiously, my hand on my gun even as I open the front door. I faintly hear scuffling in the back room, and move toward the noise, only to find it to be Munch and Fin, finishing up a canvas of the first floor. They looked at me sadly, and I knew one thing. They hadn't found Aeryn or the man who took her. I heard the other two upstairs, and the three of us went up to help.

The entire upstairs looked somewhat normal, except for the small guest room. It was wallpapered with Polaroids of Aeryn. At the park, leaving school, out with her mother at the grocery store. Every place imaginable. Most had every other face blackened out with marker, some with large circles around Aeryn's. Silently, Benson and Stabler began to take the pictures down and collect them in evidence bags. The newer pictures at the bottom of the walls showed Aeryn in an empty room, not one of those in the house we were standing in. We were hoping from the sheer number of pictures we would be able to find some identifying mark as to where she was. I walked over and started to take them down off the walls, as I wished to any god listening to keep Aeryn safe until we could get to her.

feeling dead inside...

Thu, 02 Dec 2004 03:20:08 GMT

"Oh my God," I couldn't help it, but images of children that we had seen in past cases came unbidden to my mind. I couldn't imagine anything like that happening to Aeryn. My expression must have changed, because I suddenly saw Bobby's eyes darken. It was the look he gets when he's close to catching one of our suspects. The 'I refuse to let anything get in the way of me taking care to put this SOB behind bars' look. I hate when he gets that look, and now it's directed towards me. Well, I know not at me, but I wonder what expression came onto my face just now.

"Bobby, she'll be okay. You know I wouldn't let anything happen to her, and SVU is the best team in the city for solving cases like this." I say, trying to soothe the beast that has suddenly sprung up in my parter. My stomach twisted into knots, the likes of which I hadn't felt in a very long time. Bobby? I was feeling this way over Bobby? I made a note to explore that more, when I was was home, and didn't have to look him in the eye.

"I know we'll find her, I just worry what state she's going to be in when we do," he states, which sent Samantha into a new round of tears.

I was slightly taken aback, I knew Bobby was thinking it. But to say it with his sister already in such a state? I chalked it up to stress of not being able to do anything about the whole situation. I sent him into the kitchen to get some drinks, while I tried to calm Sam down. But I got interrupted by the ring of my cell phone from the table in front of us.

"Eames," I said, picking it up. It was SVU with some new information. "I'll be there as soon as I can." I told Sam not to worry, that I would call with anything new.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Anyone have any ideas for new info? I'm a bit stuck. And can anyone tell me Alex's husband's name? I knew it, but I'm drawing a complete blank. Thanks :)

Reflecting...

Thu, 18 Nov 2004 02:35:28 GMT

I woke this morning to my cell phone beeping that I had a new text message. DON'T LEAVE BOBBY ALONE. PERIOD. Deakins. He doesn't want me leaving Bobby alone, which is a bad sign. This got me slightly panicked, and I realized I had to get to his apartment. I started throwing clothes on, and grabbing things from around the aparment that I would need, and filling my once-empty purse on the couch. I didn't even think to text or call Deakins back. I just got in my car, and started over to his house.

On the way, I started to think about everything that could possibly have gone wrong. My thoughts immediately went to Nicole. Something happened with Nicole, and she can get to Bobby again. My vision started to tinge red as I thought about the fact that she might be able to do something to him. I begin to think about all the ways I could get rid of her, preferably somewhere dark, where I could leave her.

As my brain flew past all the cases of murder I had dealt with, and whether or not Nicole would be worthy of any of them, it suddenly stopped on Bobby's father, for some unknown reason. Then I started to worry about what could have gone awry there. There was just so much that could have gone badly. Had he had another heart attack? Maybe his progress took a turn? I hoped that wasn't the case. Bobby has just now found his father, he deserves a chance to forgive him for what he did when Bobby was younger, and to get to know him again. I hope that once we get through this case, and get Aeryn back home safe (because I know we will. It's just a matter of when, I think.), he is able to salvage some sort of relationship with his father.

Maybe I'll ask him if he'd like to go out to dinner, to take his mind off of everything. I know this forced leave is going to drive him stir-crazy, if it hasn't already. Wow, that drive gets faster every time I do it, I realize as I pull up in front of his apartment building.

Once I reach the door, I hear two voices, one male and one female. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I knocked on the door. I breathed a sigh of relief when Sam appeared behind him as he came to let me in.

"Hi Bobby. I was just coming to check on how you're doing with the enforced vacation time." I said, trying not to look as if I had just rushed over from my house. And in my mind, failing miserably. "But I see you're busy. Maybe we can go out for dinner or something, to keep you from going stir-crazy. Give me a call later on. I'll leave you two to do what you were going to," I said, turning to leave. He's with his sister, he'll be fine. I'll call Deakins and find out what happened, I told myself as I walked away from his apartment building. I had managed to leave quickly enough, so as to not be stopped. But I wasn't sure what brought on the sudden need to escape. Maybe the fact that I heard a female voice and obviously thought the worst? Maybe I'll go get some coffee and try to figure this out.

Out of Character Post

Mon, 15 Nov 2004 15:26:26 GMT

Sorry I haven't been able to update. School has gotten increasingly crazy since it's almost Thanksgiving. Hopefully over break I should be able to update. Here's hoping life gets a little less crazy.

Tue, 02 Nov 2004 00:37:43 GMT

I can honestly say now that I'm happy I work Major Case. I would even go back to Vice, before I would ever dream of working SVU. I knew in theory what they had to deal with, but seeing it in person? And to someone we know? Deakins told me what we were dealing with, while Bobby was at home recuperating after his tests. Photographs...they found hundreds of pictures of Aeryn...and, I can't even write it. I shudder every time I think about what this nut did to those pictures. I can't imagine what Bobby is going to do when they tell him.

"Hey Captain," I asked, as he came out of his office, "did they get any hits off the DNA on the pictures yet?"

"Not yet, but SVU is running backgroud on Anthony Goren. You might want to go see what they're doing until your partner gets back."

"Okay Captain," I replied. I collected what minor things I thought I would need and started to make my way over to the SVU office. As I walked in, I mentally crossed my fingers that they would have found something. I entered the bullpen, and four weary faces turned to look at me. "Please tell me we have some new information," I stated, with hope in my voice.

Sat, 30 Oct 2004 02:10:59 GMT

I hope Bobby's sister understands that it wasn't his fault that he never came to visit her. I know Bobby, and if he had known he had a sister somewhere? He would have made every effort to try and contact her. Maybe it would have helped fill the void left from his mother. I know he loves her, but its hard to love someone who barely recognizes her own son.

"Goren?" I whisper. I motion for the him to leave the room, to let their father sleep. I smile to myself at their similarities, as I follow him from the room. She has the same tilt of her head that he does when talking with someone, and the crinkle at the side of her eyes when she smiles. I saw it when they told her that her father would be alright.

We go by Nicole's room, and the door is shut. I feel a flicker of anger at myself again, for missing the fatal shot. For failing to rid Bobby of his greatest enemy. I feel that it is my duty to take care of him, and I have failed. But I am determined to make it up to him. We nod at the uniforms posted outside her door. We will take care of her another day. Today we have to find Bobby's niece.

I feel in my soul that we will find her and will be able to put everything right for Bobby's sister. And I know that when we do, I hope it will bring him a sense of closure. We walk in silence, side by side down the hallway, and, even though it is filled with people running about, I feel like we are the only two here.

Impending doom....

Fri, 29 Oct 2004 03:34:23 GMT

I watch the elevator doors slide shut, and silence descends as the car glides upward.

"Bobby, you know you have to do this." I try to put as much sympathy into my voice as I can muster. I know he didn't want to go, but I knew if he didn't he would regret it later. I can feel the anger emanating from his body. Hot, deep anger. Raditating off of my partner in waves. Just as I think I'm going to drown in them, the elevator stops. A small *ding* and the doors slide open again. And just like that I have to be the strong one again.

"Come on Bobby. The faster you get in there, the faster it will be over with," I gently prod him to enter the room.

The ride..

Thu, 28 Oct 2004 21:42:15 GMT

The ride back is eerily silent. Munch and Fin are in the backseat, and, I think, somewhat afraid to talk. I slide my hand off the gear shift between us, to lay it gently on Bobby's, sitting on his lap. He's been motionless the entire ride. I have a fleeting thought that Munch and Fin should probably not be seeing my hand, and start to draw my hand back, then I look at Bobby again, and cease to care. This is my partner, and this is the only way that I can keep him calm. So, I leave my hand where it is.

We're not far from the precinct now, and I need to start to get my game face on. I know that SVU is going to interview him first, so I start mentally preparing to take care of Bobby when we get back inside the station. I hope he finally wakes up from the stupor he's in, in time to take care of business.

I'm worried about Bobby...again.

Thu, 28 Oct 2004 17:26:29 GMT

"Goren, what is it?" I asked him. He has just made eye contact with our only witness, and his face has gone ashen. He mumbled under his breath about leaving something in the car, then took off for the door.

Benson and Stabler are silent, but give me The Look. I've seen it before, many times. Every cop knows The Look. "He's your partner, you need to take care of him." All conveyed without saying a single word. I'm used to receiving it, but this is the worst I think I've ever seen Bobby. I nod to them, and follow him downstairs back to the street.

"Goren, what's wrong? Goren? Bobby?" That last one gets his attention, though he is still white as a sheet. I grab his arm and force him to focus on me.

"Bobby, what was that in there?" I'm determined to find out why my partner looks like he just saw a ghost. His mouth starts moving, but no sound is coming out. I'm getting more worried about him by the second. I've never seen him like this, not in the entire time we've been partners. I continue to force his eyes on me, while I wait for an explanation.

I did it...

Thu, 28 Oct 2004 00:49:41 GMT

I actually shot her. I can't believe it actually happened. Nicole Wallace is in the hospital, and my bullet put her there. But she was going for Bobby, and I reacted out of instinct. I've been in shock all afternoon. I got the phone call that she wasn't dead early this afternoon. I've been in a stupor all night. I wish I had gotten a better shot. I wish she had bled more before the paramedics came. I wonder how Bobby is doing....