Disclaimer: Nope not my show

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"Faith, Faith it's dark," he spoke slower each time he opened his mouth and drew breath. As the lights began to dim, as the minutes passed, hours, as more blood leaked in a dripping slop from his thigh, his speech became slurred and the throbbing under his skin decreased that much more. She was just glad to hear him talking at all.

"I know Bosco, how's your leg?" she tried to change the subject.

His pause worried her but he opened his mouth, and drew breath like the last time, "Numb."

There was silence again. Faith heard the pain in his voice diminish and her hope that he was getting better was unfounded. The bullet wouldn't miraculously jump from his leg, and the blood that had soaked through his pant leg and his coat that was serving as a tourniquet wouldn't flow back into his deprived veins.

"Think they'll come back here?" Bosco asked plainly. All emotion in his voice had left at this point. She wanted to shove it all back in him, tell him to fight, tell him that they wouldn't come back, that Ty and Sully and Sasha and maybe even Cruz would come charging in with the 'bucket boys' to get them out of there; but she couldn't look him in the face and lie. He always knew when she was lying.

"I hope not," she spoke as slowly as he did, didn't want to get him worried.

It had been over three hours since the elevator had stopped, trapping them inside. When it had originally happened, she'd figured they'd call service and have them out of there in no time flat. But who knew elevator doors weren't bullet proof?

The onslaught of bullets preceded the path of 55-David as they chased after the armed marauders. They'd followed them down a seemingly empty hallway and when they'd approached the open elevator, they were pushed in.

Now they sat in the metal contraption, the light seemed to seep out from under them; one of the bullets probably screwed with the wiring is what she'd told him. Calmed his nerves.

"Y-You got a light?"

His question startled her and even more so as he stuttered.

"What?"

"Your flashlight?" he waited too long and found himself gasping a breath in after his seemingly redundant question.

"Oh, yeah Bos, don't worry," she finished and turned her head to look at him. His eyes drooped and a dripping sound surrounded his ears, lulling him into slumber.

Faith knew that it was trite, but it was all she could think of to say, "Bos, Bosco wake up, don't fall asleep on me, OK?"

"Sure, just for you," he whispered under still closed eyes. He felt Faith wrap her hand around his giving it and unflinching squeeze.

He became alarmed at the sensation of dried blood against skin. He weakly pulled his hand away as his eyes bolted open. Only then did he become aware of the blood around his lower body. The before calming dripping he'd felt, was now scaring him into an even more ghastly color as he saw it was indeed his blood falling from his leg.

"Faith?"

"Yeah Bos?"

"This isn't going to end well," his speech slowed again and he leaned his head back against the wall. The blood loss and heat was dizzying, and the spots forming in front of his eyes didn't help much either.

"Shut up Bosco," she replied quietly, new tears forming in her eyes. She wouldn't let herself cry for him, not in front of him.

His eyes never left their original, downcast spot. They lingered there until he heard the distant sound of Faiths sniffle.

"Sorry," he said, struggling for enough energy to take Faiths hand back in his, "I'm sorry."

"We're going to get you out of here, and you're going to be fine, and we're going to put this all behind us, OK?" She said more as a statement for herself, than a question towards him.

"Pr-Promise?" His voice was now reduced to that of a young child. The level of pleading in his voice hadn't changed though, and she knew why; he was dying and he knew it.

She nodded, then realizing it pointless in the dark, and brought the back of his hand up to her lips. Her light kiss lingered as she finally let the tears roll down her cheek, "I promise."

Bosco sighed as he felt her closeness leave as she pulled away.

"C-Can we change the subject?" He found himself pausing for air again, and a knot began to form in his stomach. He just wanted the assurance that she would be OK, if. . .well, when the inevitable happened. "How about them Mets?" he said with a quick and painful laugh.

"I don't know, what about them Bosco?" she laughed as well. As her awkward laugh died down she noticed his reply never came, "Bosco?" she said apprehensively. Again no reply came but the struggled wheeze omitted from Bosco's mouth as he struggled to pull in air.

"F-Fai-Faith," he stuttered, barely audible over his desperate wheezes, "h-hurts."

As soon as her first question came unanswered she had turned her whole body around to look him in the eye. His eyes were merely slit open now, seeing not as important as breathing for his body.

She took his head in both her hands and lifted him up. Tried to get him to look at her, to look in her eyes and see that she was ready to take away his pain if she could. But she couldn't open her mouth to speak. The site before her only brought more tears to her eyes, and as Bosco's breath shortened and slowed, she placed her forehead on his.

"I-I'm OK," he breathed listlessly.

"No, you're not, none of this is OK," she sighed and resumed her vigil at his side. . . his hand still intertwined with hers.

*~*^*~*

It'd been more then five hours by now, Faith decided as she strained to look at her watch in the dark. All amounts of light has left the confinement at this point, and Bosco raspy breath was the only way so knew he was still breathing at all.

She hadn't let go of his hand either. She had been holding it the whole time, and he didn't figure out that while comforting him, she was also checking his pulse. He would never let her do it willingly, so what he didn't know, didn't hurt him.

She was pretty sure he'd been in and out of consciousness for the past hour, and when he was awake, he wasn't very lucid.

She leaned her head against the wall, feeling very alone, she wondered how alone she would feel if he didn't survive. She let her mind wander to a day a couple of months ago. She had been back on the job only a week and she and Bosco had been called in on a murder case in their jurisdiction. . .

*

"Bosco! Hey, wait up!" she'd yelled as he walked with Sasha to the RMP. They had talked briefly since her return from the desk. A 'hello' here a 'how you doing?' there, but it wasn't enough to constitute a conversation.

Bosco turned around, giving Sasha his I-need-to-talk-to-someone-so-leave-me-alone-look, and she went to start the car.

"Hey," he nodded briefly before his vision shifted to the ground.

"Look," she started, "I think we need to talk, I owe you that much."

"I think we do too, and yeah. . . you also owe me a month of working with Sasha," he smirked, "she's driving me insane, let me tell you."

"She was sweet to me," she returned the smile, "maybe she just doesn't mesh with your winning personality."

"Yeah, that must be it," he sighed and looked up from the ground, putting his hands into his coat pocket, forcefully.

There was an uncomfortable silence and Faith opened her mouth to speak, "I'm sorry Bos," Bosco looked at her in anticipation before she continued, "I shouldn't have let my marriage to Fred and all his issues get in the way of our partnership."

"Yeah, actually you should've," he took a few steps closer to her and looked her in the face once more before he whispered, "I got you shot Faith, you have no reason to forgive me."

She smirked a little to hide her need to cry, "OK, so I don't forgive you for getting me shot, but there's no forgiveness needed for me being your partner," she sighed trying to find the right words.

"I've missed you too Faith," he interjected.

Faith felt the relief wash over her body as he found the words for her, he always understood her.

"So, I'll check the roster, make sure Yokas and Boscorelli are ridin' in 55-David next week?" he asked hopefully.

"Yup," she sighed and turned to walk away, not before whispering to herself, "together again."

But he'd heard her. Always heard her loud and clear. And it was a start.

*

. . .She was harshly pulled from her daydream by an abrupt rehash of gunfire. This time it was farther away, above them even.

Faith felt herself squeezing Bosco's hand even tighter in preparation of what might come. She heard the shots move further down the building where they finally came to a stop.

"Bosco, Bos you hear that?" she asked his still form. She hadn't noticed, but he'd given in a few minutes ago. He'd succumbed to the pain, blood loss, heat, stress, it was too much for his weakened body.

"We're going to get out of here Bos. . .I promise," she whispered in his ear before leaning her head back in exhaustion, praying he heard her. . .

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TBC! I have the next chapter already mostly done. Read and review and I'll get it up faster.