A/N: So, before I wrote these I wasn't quite sure who I should have die. So, I decided I would write one of each. Since they were both going to be the same story, kind of, they are similar.
It was a rather hot day in the middle of summer. I had a tank top on, so I wasn't that bad. Bobby on the other hand, being the professional gentleman that he was had a full suit on. I could tell he was hot. He had small beads of sweat forming just where his hair was grey right near his temples.
We had decided to grab a cup of coffee before we talked to our witness. And instead of driving two blocks, we decided to walk.
When we approached the house we gave it a once over. It looked relatively nice. The paint was up kept; a light green. The small flowers in the front of the windows were well taken care of. And there wasn't a crack to be seen.
We ascended the few steps to the stairs. I knocked on the door and we both stood back. We looked around waiting for the door to be opened.
I was looking at an older lady walking her dog as the door opened a crack.
"Gun!" Bobby yelled jumping in front of me. I drew my weapon but it was too late. He had already fired… straight into Bobby.
I shot him right back and he lurched backwards against the door and slid down it.
I dropped to Bobby's side. I then looked up frantically. I noticed a slew of people standing around that I hadn't noticed before. "Someone call an ambulance! Officer down!" I screeched. I then turned back to Bobby.
"Eames." He said gasping for air.
Someone must have actually listened to me and called 911 because I heard an ambulance siren in the distance.
"Shh… don't talk. A bus is on the way." I told him comfortingly.
"Eames." He said once more, struggling harder.
"Don't you hare leave me, Bobby. Don't even think about it." I said starting to cry.
Bobby then with difficulty, lifted his hand towards my face. He brushed his hand against my cheek. He then wiped a tear away. "I'm… sorry." His hand then dropped and he lie motionless.
That was one week ago. I thought I could cope with his loss. I go into work everyday and sit at my desk. I haven't done any work, but no one tells me any different. So I just sit there and stare at his desk across from mine.
People tell me not to worry. Not to think about it. It wasn't my fault. I tell them I know it wasn't my fault. That's what Bobby would have done. But, I just can't help but think that at least some of it is my fault.
Now I sit in my bed and write this letter:
To Whom Ever May Find This,
I know to you I never seemed like a quitter. Alex Eames the impenetrable force never let anything get to her. Well, it did.
This is not my first tragedy. When Joe was killed I was so upset. We fought quite a lot, but that did not make me love him any less.
Now Bobby has been killed. This is something I just can't handle. When I finally learned to love again, it was Bobby. IT might have seemed like I was the one who kept him grounded. But, it was just as true the other way around.
Now, as all my family comes I realize how alone I am. They all come with their husbands or wives or children… it just reminds me how alone I am. I have no one. No one to comfort me, or tell me they honestly love me without them being family. That person was Bobby. And now he's not here anymore.
At work… well, at first I thought that I would need a new partner. I now know that I could never work with anyone else. No one understands what we think and go though. They wouldn't understand me. I am tainted, but in a good way.
I am truly sorry to everything that I hurt by doing this. But I just can't go on like this.
I get up and head into the bathroom. I set the letter upon the sink and turn around. I put the stopper in the drain and turn on the warm water.
This is probably what Bobby would have done. "The most painless way to die." He say- I mean would have said.
The water had almost reached the brim. I turned it off. I checked the letter and got in the tub. Since I am so small when I dunked my head under, I only had to bend my knees a little. It was actually comfortable.
My lungs screamed for air, but I wouldn't give them the pleasure.
This is it. It's over. There's no going back now.
I finally get to be with my Bobby.
A/N 2: I know this isn't as in character as the Bobby one. But I think that she actually might do this. I just- I couldn't express it into words. I tried in her letter. But I don't know how well it worked.