Title: Just By Chance
Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I don't own anything. This is written for pure enjoyment only and no profit to be gained!
Rating: T for references to suicide as well as language.
Spoilers: Spoilers for "Frame."
Authors Note: This takes place that weekend after "Frame" (season finale) occurred. I think I'll just leave it at that…
One more thing; I'm not saying I agree or disagree with the beginning quote. For one thing, I feel that everything we do is a choice. What can I say? I have a very indeterministic outlook on life, but I put this quote in because it ties into the story.
Note: The parts that are in bold and italics are the parts where Bobby's reading.
And, of course, No BETA used throughout the story.
CHAPTER 1: Hopeless and astray
"Suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain."
Bobby partially opened her screen door and left it there; between the screen door and front door. It was the short note that had taken him so long to write. He knew she'd see it when she came home.
When she gets home…But by then, it'll be too late.
Alex was gone for the entire day. Her family had their monthly barbeque at her parents' house on Saturday.
Today is Saturday.
Today… He contemplated.
It was today that he decided it was time.
…It'll be the last day of my life.
Alex called Bobby in the morning to let him know that she'd be gone most of the day and asked if he was going to be ok; if he was ok. He weakly answered yes, but his brain was screaming no. She even invited him to go with her, but he turned her down. She wasn't surprised. He couldn't go. Bobby said he'd be fine, told her to have a goodtime, and then hung up. He sounded so distant during those few short minutes.
I'll be fine. Soon enough, everything will be ok once and for all.
The drive back to his apartment was troublesome. Time seemed to standstill. The note…he kept thinking about it. It was hard not to. He knew it wasn't saying much, it wasn't saying enough. He knew it was wrong to just leave it there, but it was the best he could do; it was all he could do. At least he did that much. He couldn't see her no matter how much he ached to. She'd talk him out of it. She mustn't ruin his plan.
There's no turning back now.
When Bobby parked outside his apartment building, he got out of his car and enjoyed the city air one last time until he stepped inside the building. He decided to take the stairs up to his apartment instead of the elevator.
It's only three floors, it won't kill me… He mused and then he grimaced at the thought.
Once inside, he shut the door but didn't bother to lock it. He figured it would be easier for the police to get inside if he kept it unlocked.
By the time anyone hears the sound…I'll be gone.
Lethargically, he turned around and scanned his apartment. It felt empty, void of any life. He realized just then that in his 47 years of living he hadn't accomplished much. He was a Detective. A great Detective; he'd give himself that much credit; too bad other people didn't. But he didn't care what others thought any longer. He cared what he thought, and his job alone…it wasn't enough. He lived in a crappy apartment in Brooklyn with no family or close friends to speak of. It never really felt like home to him; it was just a place to eat and sleep. Truly, he never felt he had a home. His life was meaningless and he felt terribly alone.
I'm such a waste…I can't take life anymore…
It was the only possible solution to end his miserable being. It was the only plausible way. He was willing to leave what little he had to relieve his pain. Really, it was self-destruction.
Suicide is a man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me—I quit!"
Bobby thought about his musings and believed it. He refused to be fired. He was going to quit before God had a chance to fire him.
I'll never feel better again. Nothing will help; not this time. Nothing can make it right again. After everything that has happened in the past couple of days, why would I want to make things right?
Suicide. Such a simple, three a three syllable word and yet it held such permanence. It was the word so many people feared to even say, yet he was willing to act on that one single word. He wasn't sure if he feared it or not and that alone, the uncertainty of it all, put fear into his heart.
The thought, the word 'suicide' had come to him many years ago but he'd pushed those thoughts away. At this moment in time, however, those thoughts were coming on full stream ahead. Any logic he may have been feeling was thrown out the door. He scrutinized himself on many occasions for thinking such thoughts, but he didn't anymore.
If suicide is an indication of how weak I truly am, then so be it.
After all that had happened; his mother's death, his brother's death, Nicole's death…and even Declan's confession, he couldn't bear to live anymore. It was like his life was heading for a system overload; or perhaps it was already there. He couldn't maintain his fake façade any longer. Honestly, he was ready to fall apart at any second and he wanted to end it before anyone was there to witness it.
Those two words, they were still haunting him days later. He knew they would for the rest of his life if he didn't do something about it. The way he screamed it at Ross; it even scared himself. He felt the fire burn within his own eyes and at that moment, he didn't recognize his voice; he didn't recognize the anger that was held in those two words. Those words, those two fucking words broke him for two reasons; because it was true, Mark Ford Brady is…or was his father, and two, because everyone now knew it.
I'm probably the laughing stock of the squad room by now.
He feared what would happened if he had to walk back into 1PP.
Bobby has a sharp memory; no one can claim that he doesn't. He remembers a lot of things. Many things he forgets overtime due to the lack of not needing to know, but the one thing he will never forget was the conversation in Ross' office. It was during that case, the last case he worked on that made him want to go over the edge. It was the one that pushed him over the edge; and he was still falling, headfirst. It was Declan's actions and confessions that made him wish he were dead.
The son of a bitch, he had my brother killed.
Bobby yearned to have the support from both Ross and Alex, especially at a time like that, but it was a loss cause. Truthfully, it had been like a slap in the face to Bobby; slapping him back to reality. He was reminded that day why he kept to himself. Truthfully, he'd failed even before he walked into the room. It was the first time in eight years, after leaving his Captains office that he truly felt alone. He wept that night because of it. Everyone had turned their back on him, and while their back was turned, the idea came to him.
After Bobby got Declan Gage to confessed, which wasn't a hard task, he went back home that night to his empty apartment. That was two nights ago.
He didn't anticipate this to happen. He sure in the hell didn't anticipate anyone finding out about his father, but it was the last straw. He hated it. He hated everyone that knew it. He didn't want to be the laughing stock anymore. He didn't want to be known as a freak or the whack job any longer. He felt lifeless and that alone made him realize that it was finally time.
Like Declan said…I'm free.
Realizing he'd been standing in his door way for several minutes, Bobby walked further into his apartment and looked around the room. He immediately noticed that his lap top was still on. He gradually walked over to it and just stared at it; as if it would supply him with all the answers he sought after. He had to tie up any loose ends he may have, no matter how irrelevant they were to his final act. Bobby reached down to shut it off but pulled his hand away just short of the power button. Instead, he sat down at his desk and double-clicked on Internet Explorer.
He didn't know what made him do it, he had no reason for it, but he typed the word 'suicide' into Google. Less than a second later, millions of websites popped up in reference to the three syllable word.
No, no. I need to see the definition. I need to see what I'm doing to myself.
He knew the definition, though, and he most certainly knew the consequences of that single word. Bobby knew more about psychology than most psychologists themselves, but he needed to see the definition. He demanded to see the words in front of him. He needed to see what he was going to do to himself.
After realizing he needed to add the word 'definition' after suicide, he went to type it in when something caught his eye.
Suicide: Read This First
His eyes were fixed on those four words on the screen; almost like they were mocking him, daring him to click on the words. He didn't know why he did it. He didn't plan for this to happen, he didn't want anything to hold him back any further, but for some reason he found himself clicking on the link.
What am I doing?
The website instantly caught his eye. It was dark, yet still inviting with a black background and grayish-white writing with crimson red writing every so often.
His eyes slowly read the top: If you are thinking about suicide… read this first.
He blinked. He couldn't believe it, but he began to cry. He swore he would never cry again. He promised himself that there would never be another reason to cry or to ache the way he did. He clenched his jaw and then picked his hands up off the keyboard and held them in the air in front of him. He was unsure what to do. He rubbed his hands over his mostly grey 5'oclock shadow and looked back towards the screen.
It was then that he reached for his gun.
Bobby pulled it out of his holster and gazed at it. He tightened his grip on it, tighter than necessary, and then loosened it a few times; as if he was toying with himself. He knew he had time though. He knew Alex wouldn't see the letter he left for her for hours and no one else would come looking for him, so he started to read the words on the screen again. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't resist. He still held his gun in his left hand but it was resting on the desk as well.
If you are feeling suicidal now, please stop long enough to read this…
It was the beginning of the first paragraph and already it had him intrigued. He wondered what this person was going to tell him. He had to know. He continued to scan through it, holding his head down in some spots, shaking it others. After reading four, he counted, four paragraphs he saw a quote in the middle of the screen. It was one of the things that were in red. He scrolled down until it was centered on his lap top and then read it.
His face scrunched, so he read it again.
Suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain.
He blinked away the oncoming tears and thought about it. He must've read it at least ten times. He broke it down and tried to decipher what it meant. He wished at that time that he had never opened up the link, but something told him to keep reading…so he did, he kept reading. He couldn't seem to stop himself once he started.
You are not a bad person, or crazy, or weak, or flawed because you feel suicidal…
By this time he was thoroughly engrossed in what he was reading so he continued on; re-reading some of the parts that stood out the most.
When pain exceeds pain-coping resources, suicidal feelings are the result. You can survive suicidal feelings if you do either of two things: 1. find a way to reduce your pain, or 2. find a way to increase your coping resources. Both are possible.
Bobby blinked and looked down at the next paragraph. It listed five things for him to think about. He read them slowly, making sure he picked up all words precisely how they were written. After reading all five carefully, another quote was poised in the middle of the page. It was in red again.
Now: I'd like you to call someone.
He saw those words, he re-read the statement several times and it almost made him throw up because of it. His head began to spin.
"Call someone?" He snickered out loud. "I have no one you fucking idiot!" He finally yelled with as much venom as his body would exhibit. "No one!" He stood up, picking the gun up as he rose and pointed it at his chest in no particular spot. "No one to call! I have no one that cares!" He roared. "This is my life! Nobody else's!" And then he froze; his yelling's seized and his apartment became deathly silent
This is my life! He thought. This is my life! He repeated in his head over and over again. It was the other phrase he would never forget. It too haunted him. I can't take any of this anymore. It's now or never. He thought.
He pulled the gun up so it was aimed at his head. He was ready to shoot himself, he was ready to end it; his finger was on the trigger…and it was then that he remembered. It was almost as if someone had finally knocked some sense into him.
He had one person.
After everything that had happened throughout the eight years of their partnership, she was still with him. She had pulled him aside after the blowup at Rodgers and had calmed him down. She had stated her reasons, she told him she was trying to clear him, and he never believed her…until now. He wouldn't allow himself to believe her until this very second.
"Oh god…" He whispered and covered his mouth with his free hand. He felt ashamed. It was no longer his brain screaming no; it was his brain visualizing her screaming no. He visualized her running after him and trying to stop him before he could harm himself.
He sank back into the chair he was just in. He began to whimper, just like a dog that was too small to jump up on a tall bed. He didn't try to stop it. He was psychically shaking when he reached over to his desk drawer and pulled out a single picture. It was the picture. He'd kept it all these years. It was a picture of him and Alex; the one he managed to snap of the both of them with a Polaroid camera early into their partnership.
Does she even care? Would she even miss me…?
Bobby still held his gun in his left hand, but his grip on the picture was much tighter.
A/N: If you really want to get more into the story, read the website. I did not make this website up. To get to the website type in the word 'suicide.' It should be the second website you can click on. You'll see it, it says: Suicide: Read This First, just like in the story.
Disclaimer: I am not attempting to mock this site or anyone's views, opinions, beliefs, or occurrences about or on suicide. I found this site while reading about suicide. In fact, this story was very different until I found this website. I didn't originally plan on incorporating any website into this story until I read the whole thing and decided to change things around.
Also, one of Bobby's thoughts was: Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit." That is actually a quote by Bill Maher. Just wanted to give credit where credit is due.
As for Bobby's age, I went off Nicole's printout in the episode "Antithesis" (Bobby's birth date is August 20, 1961).
The next chapter will deal with Alex. Thanks for reading and please be patient with the updates!