Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just borrowing Bobby and Alex for my own amusement.

I did not use a Beta, so all mistakes are my own.

re·sil·ient–adjective : 1. springing back; rebounding

2. returning to the original form after being bent, compressed, or stretched

3. recovering readily from illness, depression, or adversity; buoyant.

When Bobby Goren's die was cast in life it seemed that he was given somewhat more than his share of trials and burdens, but he was also given a few wonderful gifts. He was blessed with a searing intelligence, a huge capacity for kindness and compassion and an unshakable sense of right and wrong. His greatest gift, however, was one he probably seldom thought about. Bobby was resilient. No matter what life threw at him, and lately it had thrown way too much, he was able to bounce back.

No matter how dark it got, he would inevitably find a small spark inside that would begin to glow and would eventually light his way back out of whatever hole he found himself in. The incantation he used to conjure this small miracle time and time again was the same - Nothing that is happening right now is worse than anything that has ever happened before and if you were able to get through that then you will be able to get through this. Those simple words repeated to himself somehow always did the trick. Soon after, life would present him with something to grab on to. A phone call from a friend, a perfect blue sky, a shared joke. Usually just a small thing, but enough to somehow make him able to put one foot in front of the other and keep walking.

Until now. He sat alone in the quiet, empty interrogation room and felt the spark go out. He had never felt such coldness emanating from his very core. He tried the trick that had worked many times before. Nothing that is happening right now is worse than anything that has ever... but he found he couldn't even finish the sentence in his head. Because, honest to God, this was worse. Frank was dead, Declan was insane and any sense of wellbeing he had been able to hold on to since his Mother's death was simply shattered.

There was no saving grace in this room. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a moon crater, with its smooth sides and lack of breathable oxygen. There was nothing to hang on to here. In a minute he would just float away, tumbling end over end until he disappeared into oblivion.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder followed by silky hair on his cheek and an arm draped gently across his back. He hadn't even heard the door open. She didn't say anything. She just stood behind him, lending her warmth to his frozen body and mind, showing him through her touch that he was not alone. They didn't move. They just were. And suddenly he felt it, a tiny spark.

"Come one," Alex said, finally speaking. "Let me buy you a really bad cup of Major Case coffee."

He looked in her eyes and saw in them how much she cared for him. She was the one person who had stuck by him, who had seen every terrifying thought in his head, who watched him fall on his face, who had seen him at his very worst, yet was still there. Still wanted to be there. So he held onto that little spark and followed her out of the room and back into the light.