Title: "Guilt"
By: Tracy

Summary: This is a conversation that would have taken place during "Happily 
Ever After." It's one that I imagine happened while we weren't looking. And 
yes, it's focus is Bobby and Lindsay, mostly Bobby.

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine and they never will be. Everyone in this story 
belongs to ABC television, David E. Kelley and all those other big important 
people. I'm just a fan with an over abundance of appreciation for "The 
Practice." No harm is intended. If you sue me, could Dylan McDermott defend 
me?......No? Then please don't sue me. Thanks!


I dedicate this to all the other fan fic writers out there. You are all very 
brave to put your talents on display and you all do it so well. Good work!

_______________GUILT_______________

"Fine. But she doesn't need a fat old priest holding her hand right now. 
She needs you!"

I watch him as he leaves. I know he is right, not just about me needing 
to hold Lindsay's hand, but about all of it. How I couldn't help my mother, 
how afraid I am that God will take her from me, how much I love 
her.......................

And I do. I love her so much and the thought of losing her......No, I 
can't even think about it. There is so much left for us to do together and I 
don't want to do any of it alone. I know I should be holding her hand, but 
there is a reason I can't. Something no one knows about and something I can 
barely admit to myself, much less any one else. I feel so many things right 
now. I have no problem showing the anger I have at whoever did this, or the 
fear I have that I might lose her, or the love I feel for her. But it's 
something else that is killing me.

Guilt.

Her pain, what has happened to her, is my fault. 

Every time I acknowledge that to myself I feel sick. I played a hand in 
what has happened to Lindsay. I am to blame and it's killing me. If she 
dies......

I can't think about it. When I even begin to think about a life without 
her I feel like someone is standing on my chest. I can't breath and it 
hurts.....oh God it hurts. I am waiting for somebody to figure it out. I keep 
waiting for Helen to say it, but she doesn't. She has her own grief. If that 
grief ever clears or turns to anger, even just for a moment, I'm sure she'll 
say it. And she wouldn't be wrong. It's my fault.
_________________________________________________________

I can't sleep. I've been in this chair for over an hour, just watching 
her, making sure she's still breathing. 

"Oh, Lindsay, I'm so sorry, Baby." I whisper to her, my tears are 
threatening to dance over the edge of my eyelids. Terms of endearment like 
"Baby" and "Sweetheart," words I've never said to her before, are now falling 
from my mouth like rain from the clouds. I reach out to squeeze her hand, 
when I hear the voices in the hall. They are quiet voices, but not quiet 
enough to keep me from hearing them.

"He's a mess." 

That's Lucy, I know. Always blunt and to the point.

"He blew it court, and he knows it. But he won't let me take it."

I can't let you take it, Eugene. I need something to put my back up 
against. Something else to think about.

"He's not talking. I've tried, but he just sits there. I'm really worried 
about him."

Rebecca. All these years and she still worries about me. This time, I 
guess there really is something to worry about. The voices move down the 
hall, probably to get coffee, and I think about what they have said.

They are right. I'm self destructing, and I know it.

I'm only keeping it together for Lindsay. If she comes out of 
this.......when she comes out of this, I'll need to be strong. I'll have to 
show her that I'm here for her, that I love her.

I guess I'm not doing a very good job of being here, though. I keep 
running off to court or taking trips to the police station to see if there's 
anything new. That's because the guilt is too much and if I sit here too long 
I will go crazy with helplessness......crazy with grief and despair and guilt.

And suddenly, clearly, I realize I need to talk. I need to stop telling 
everyone I'm fine. I need to stop putting on brave face. I need to talk to 
someone who will listen to me without judgment. I need to get these feelings 
out before they kill me. I can't talk to Helen, she's too upset to bear my 
grief on top of her own. I can't talk to Rebecca, she's too close. She'll 
want to comfort me. I don't need comfort. I need a sounding board. Someone 
who will just let me get it out.

And, just as clearly as I realize I need to talk about this, I know who 
I'm going to talk to. I get out of my chair and lean over Lindsay.

"I'll be back in a little bit, Sweetheart, okay?" I stroke her hair and 
gently kiss her forehead. I remember doing this on mornings when she had 
spent the night and I left before she woke. I pray silently that I will be 
able to do that again someday.

I step out into the hall and see Jimmy sitting in the chairs outside her 
door.

"Jimmy......"

"Oh, hey Bobby."

"I've, um, got to......I've got to go somewhere. Could you........" I 
can't finish the sentence. It's the guilt again. I know I should be sitting 
with her.

"Yeah. I'll sit with her. You go do what you need to do." Jimmy looks at 
me and I know that somehow he knows where I am going and what I need to do. I 
am grateful there is no judgment from him. 

"Thanks." I give him a weak smile and he passes me to go into Lindsay's 
room, patting me on the shoulder on his way in. I hear him talking to her and 
I know she is in good hands with him.

"I'll be back soon." I whisper more to myself than to Lindsay, and I turn 
and walk out of the hospital.
_________________________________________________________

I push the big front door open. It is heavy, but the relief I feel just 
stepping inside helps me to know I am doing the right thing. I need to be in 
one piece in order to help her, be strong for her. I need to fight my own 
demons to be able to do that, and this is the place for it.

I don't see who I am looking for right away, and decide to check in the 
back, perhaps he is in one of the offices. My need to find him is urgent now, 
because if I don't get this guilt and grief out of me, I know it will kill me.

A light is on. I can see it leaking out from under the door. I close my 
eyes and knock, hoping he is on the other side.

"Come in."

It is him. I know his voice and relief seeps slowly into my veins. I push 
the door open and I see his kindly smile.

"Ahhh, Bobby. I'm glad you came."

"I, uh, I need to talk.........." I am choking on my own words, so 
overwhelming are my emotions.

"Okay. Sit down and talk."

"Thank you."

And so I sit across from Father Patrick, prepared to confess my 
responsibility for Lindsay's trauma.
_________________________________________________________

"I'm sorry....about before, at the hospital." I begin.

He holds his hand up to stop me. "It's all right. You don't need to 
apologize. You're going through a lot right now and I understand your 
feelings."

I know he thinks he understands, but he doesn't know about the guilt. My 
voice falters as I open my mouth to speak.

"Let me help you, Bobby. Talk. That's what you came here to do, isn't it?"

I nod and take a deep breath. There is so much to say and I am not sure 
where to begin. What I do say surprises even me.

"I love her."

"I know."

"But she doesn't." I begin to cry with those words.

"What do you mean?"

"I.....I never told her. I mean, I just never said it, you know? I always 
know how she feels, but I never told her. I could see her waiting for it, in 
her eyes, like .....like big question marks. I know she loves me, but she 
wanted to hear from me first. The idea of being hurt twice.......so she 
didn't want to say it to me first. So it never got said, and she doesn't 
know." My face is wet with streams of tears. 

"And now you're afraid you won't get to tell her."

I nod, realizing for the first time that is a huge part of the way I 
feel. She matched me step by step in our relationship, never questioning it. 
She stuck by me, even when I was the biggest jerk, she never got scared, not 
once, of the intensity of our relationship. I always knew she loved me, and 
so I left it unsaid, assuming she knew that I loved her back. And now I am 
left wondering if she really does know. 

"I never knew.........I've dated a lot of women, you know? Had plenty of 
relationships. I never knew I could feel the way I do. I never knew that kind 
of love was possible until I fell for Lindsay. She's everything.....she's my 
whole life and I can't believe I never told her that. I can't believe she 
could leave me and never know how much I need her here with me.....how much I 
love her." I am not crying now. I am not sure I have any tears left.

"Have you told her now?"

"Yeah, after.......I just want to know that she heard me. I want to know 
that she understands."

"Bobby?"

I look at him, uncertain as to what he might say in response to my words.

"She knows."

"How do you know?" I ask, so wanting him to be right.

"Do you really think she would have stuck around with you, loved you, if 
she didn't think you loved her in return?"

I don't answer. I'm trying to understand what he is telling me.

"She's been through a lot of trauma. The doctor's have said it's amazing 
she's still alive, right?"

I nod.

"People without love, Bobby, don't fight like she has. If she didn't know 
that she has your love to come back to, if she didn't have the strength of 
your love for her, she wouldn't have survived as long as she has."

I hear him and I understand, but..............

"How do I know that she knows? How can I be sure?" I ask him, because I 
want to know that she really does understand how I feel. 

"All you can do is wait." Father Patrick smiles. "And love her. She will 
come back to you, Bobby. You are why she has fought like she has. I'm certain 
of it."

"I hope so." I whisper, my responsibility for her injuries still weighing 
me down.

"What else." He says it like a statement. He is not asking me if there is 
something else. He knows there is and he is waiting for me to tell him.

"I was late." I say, as if he should understand that.

"You were late." Another statement and he waits for me to go on.

"I was supposed to pick her up at the office and we were going to meet 
our friend.............."

"And you were late." He grasps what I am telling him now, I can see it by 
the sympathy in his eyes.

"It was a stupid client meeting. It went on forever, but I couldn't get 
away. I knew she was waiting, but I had to be there......."

Father Patrick nods, but doesn't say a word. He just lets me talk.

"If I would have been there on time, she never would have been there. 
Whoever did this wouldn't have found her there." I cannot look him in the eye 
as I confess my guilt. "It's my fault."

I hear a noise. A loud keening noise that doesn't really even sound 
human. Someone is crying from the very depths of sadness and it is not until 
Father Patrick sits next to me and wraps his arms around me that I realize 
the noise is coming from me. I am the one who is crying from the darkest 
places in my heart.

I let him hold me. I haven't cried like this since my mother died. I 
didn't know my pain was so deep. I cry like a child and he comforts me like a 
parent. I do not know how long I cry, but he continues to hold me after I 
stop.

I am all at once embarrassed and relieved. I am embarrassed by the 
strength of my grief, yet relieved that I have said it out loud. It seems 
easier to deal with, somehow, now that I have said it. I sit up, away from 
Father Patrick.

"I'm sorry." I say to him for the second time that day.

"Don't be." He answers. "Bobby, this didn't happen because you were late. 
This happened for so many different reasons that it cannot possibly add up to 
any one person's fault, other than the person with the knife. You were late, 
true. But, the door wasn't locked, the judge let the nun killer back on the 
streets, the police made a mistake on the original search warrant......there 
are a thousand little things that added up to this horrible event. You cannot 
blame yourself."

"But I do."

"I know you do. But I would be willing to bet that Lindsay does not."

I nod, but do not answer. He does not know how much I hope he is right.

"God has plans for all of us, Bobby. We may not understand all that 
happens to us and to those we love, but it is important that we learn."

Again, I nod, but do not speak.

"Learn from your feelings, Bobby. Whenever you get the chance, tell her 
how you feel. Don't wait until the next time or the time after that. God is 
giving you a second chance. Use it."

I know he is right. And I will tell her. I do not want a day to pass ever 
again where I do not tell her how I feel. I want her to know, for the rest of 
her life, how important she is to me, how much I love her.

"I will." I say.

"This wasn't your fault. No one blames you but you."

"I hope not."

"Let it go, Bobby. You were late. It happens."

I realize I feel better. Not great, but better. I know what I need to do, 
what I want to do to show Lindsay how much I love her. I need to tell her and 
I know just how. 

"Thank you, Father." I say, standing to leave.

"Any time, Bobby. Any time."

I shake his hand and leave the office. I make one stop on the way back to 
Lindsay's side. I purchase the most beautiful ring I have ever seen. I hope 
she will wear it. I hope she will accept. I hope she will give me the chance 
to tell her, every day for the rest of my life, how much I really do love 
her. 

I enter her room. Jimmy is still there, talking to her.

"Remember the rat?" he is asking her. "Ugh, that thing was so gross. You 
girls wanted me to be a big manly man and kill it, but I got right up on a 
desk with the rest of you. Then Bobby came in and looked at us like we were 
all nuts. And Rebecca killed it." Jimmy laughs and I clear my throat so he 
knows I am there.

"Hey Jimmy. Any change?"

"No. Here's your chair. I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thanks Jimmy." I say and I mean it. He gives me a small smile and leaves 
the room. I take my place next to her and take her hand.

"Hey, Lindsay, it's me. I need you to come back to me, okay? I've got 
plans and you're a big part of them. I'm not interested in doing any of them 
without you. So you keep fighting your way back to me. I promise it will be 
worth it." I kiss her hand. "I love you, Baby. I love you so much and I want 
you to wake up so you can say it back to me. I'm right here, Sweetheart. I'm 
right here."
_______________THE END_______________

Okay, I wrote this because Bobby always feel so guilty about everything, that 
there is NO WAY he wouldn't feel guilty about being late, therefore giving 
the nutty nun person the opportunity to stab Lindsay. It's a bit different 
from anything I have ever written, because it's in the first person. I am 
really interested in feedback, because I am uncertain about this whole first 
person thing, so tell me what you think. Thanks for reading!