Third Watch

Gone. Sometimes thinking of death is weird; that this person you cared for; friend, lover, family… That you'll never see them again, they're just gone. Forever.

The memories that haunt you, the dreams you dream in the dead of the night. You want nothing more but to feel their touch, seek their presence, just to be with them one more day.

Some people are lucky; they never experience this type of pain, they can never imagine it. Never can conjure the images and emotions that death brings about. Others are not so lucky; they face death every day, seeing more death than life. Death changes you, it makes you hold onto those you love that much tighter and those you meet at a distance; if you lose them so what? You were never friends. Distancing people makes death easier. It makes life easier.

For someone who hates death I definitely picked the wrong occupation, there are worse ones like being a paramedic; doing everything you can so this person can live another second on the this cruel and doomed world. No, I chose a job as a New York Police Officer, joining the ranks of the blue at the corner of King and Arthur, Camelot, we call it. The place where heroes go before going out to battle evil.

I have worked here for about five years and have seen a lot of change; officers coming and leaving, the change in attitude and people. Change in the system, whatever system that runs this place. But there are some constants that make life the same; the routines; get up, shower, workout, shower, go to work, patrol the streets, go home, eat, sleep and repeat. Davis and Sully and their smiles, the jokes they crack and the times they share, the stories they tell after work as we share a beer or two. Yokas and Bosco running around guns blazing, the trouble Bosco manages to get himself into. The firefighters carrying about impractical tasks. The paramedics; Carlos, Kim and Doc, running around saving lives. Somethings do stay the same.

I am not involved with their lives, sure I help out; working traffic, backing them up if needed, helping them make difficult arrests, keeping gangbangers off the paramedics' backs as they assist some poor soul who pissed the wrong person off. I am a shadow in their lives, sure they acknowledge me and know my capabilities, but they do not know me in a way they know each other. They don't even know my real name. The person I knew the most is Davis and Carlos whom I talked to when we were waiting for the bus together. They call me Ghost, because I am one. I am a ghost in their lives, spectating and working behind the scenes.

I care for them and would happily bleed out for them. I see them as family, although the feeling is only one sided. I was there when all the tragedies struck; when Bobby was shot. I was there and helped Bosco arrest Paulie, Bobby's killer. I was at his funeral and paid my respects, at every anniversary of his death I go to his grave and light a candle and lay a single rose. I was there when Kim tried to kill herself; I brought her son, Joey, to the hospital while they pumped her stomach. I gave Joey my number to call if he ever needed to talk. He called once or twice. He's a good kid. I was there for 9/11 and helped pull people out of the towers, I kept thinking that I was going to die, everyone else along with me. I was there when Alex died and held her hand, along with Carlos, whispering words of encouragement in her ear, easing her passing into the next life. I went to her funeral and held her mother's hand. They were my family and I stood by them with everything.

Today was no exception. I was patrolling the streets when the call came in, "55 Charlie to Central, we have shot fired! Repeat shots fired, 10-13! 10-13! Get us some help!" I recognized the voice as Sully. I heard the panic and fear in his voice and felt my own limbs beginning to tremble. They needed me.

"55 Franklin, responding," I called into the mic turning on the sirens and rushing to help my friends, my family. Many asked me why I never attempted to intercept their lives, become friends with them, instead of hanging back listening to every word the uttered.

"Because," I'd say, "they need me here, in the background, not there in the forefront. I am Ghost."

I arrived with a pounding heart as adrenaline shot through the veins, making my mind sharper, faster and quicker to react. All around me gunfire sounded, echoing through the cloudless sky. I recognized the shooter as Dante, the leader of the local gang, I knew he had a beef with the NYPD for busting his men for drug possession but I didn't think he'd go this far.

"Davis!" Sully's cries cut through my thoughts. I turned to see Davis hiding behind a small wall, the surrounding walls exploding as bullets struck them. Davis looked at me, terror racing through his eyes. He needed my help.

I opened my door and jumped out, safely covered by my cruiser as I shot my own bullets into the air.

"55 Franklin on scene, there are approximately five to ten shooters, heavily armed! We need more backup!" No sooner had the words left my mouth 55 David pulled up beside my cruiser as Bosco and Yokas jumped out, guns raised to the skies.

"Ghost, where are they?" Bosco yelled over the shots. I pointed where the shooters were situated.

"Sully's over there, Davis is trapped by the south wall and that wall won't hold up forever!" My voice was strong and unwavering as I met Bosco's cold eyes and he met mine. There was a moment where we knew what each other thought and felt, the adrenaline, the fear that masked our faces. We understood.

"Yokas!" I yelled turning away from Bosco, looking to his partner. I'd always respected Yokas; a tough, young mother fighting the world to save her children from the pain, suffering and hate that filled it. She was the strongest women I ever met, stronger than I ever dreamed to be. She took care of those who needed her and stood by Bosco whatever the case. In a way, I admired her.

She looked to me, her green eyes flashing, her breaths short and quick. The wind had grabbed a hold of some stay strands of her hair and whipped it around her face like a wild cobra. Her gun was raised to the shooters with deadly precision. Her eyes held compassion and strength.

"Yokas, you and Bosco cover me!" I shouted pointing to Davis. She followed my gaze and gave a slight nod turning away and aiming her gun. I felt my heart jump and pound faster.

Calm down! I ordered myself taking in deep breaths, Davis needs you!

"Now!" I shouted jumping to my feet and running around the tiny square towards Davis. The gang began firing at me, the bullets barely missing my feet. I heard the gunshots of Sully, Yokas and Bosco behind me protecting me. I slid to the wall beside Davis and began firing my own rounds in the sky.

"Davis, you okay?" I yelled quickly inspecting him for any wounds. Davis shook his head. "You'll be okay, Davis," I promised passionately, no matter what Davis would make it through this unscathed.

I turned away and continued firing at the gang, I noticed only three remained; the rest lay on the cold cement, their eyes glazed as they stared blindly at the day, blood pooling around their bodies.

Good riddance…

I turned behind me and watched as a young male, probably late twenties rise from behind a garbage bin, holding a gun. The gun shone malevolently in the afternoon sun, glinting evilly. He raised it and aimed. I fired off two rounds.

Click. Click.

I swore; I was out of ammo.

I watched as he aimed carefully, as if nothing else mattered. I followed his eyes to Davis. He was going to shoot Davis!

A small pop filled the air as he fired.

"No!" I shouted and leapt up. I could see the bullet flying through the air in perfect slow motion. The sleek, silver bullet twisting through the air in delicate swirls, as if dancing. It is amazing how beautiful and deadly something can be at the same time…

I didn't even feel it but fell to the ground hard. The others looked to me and to the shooter and returned fire. The man fell to the ground with three rounds buried into his chest. Then there was prefect silence, nothing but the wind and snow scraping across the cement. The air itself seemed electric, filled with tension and uncertainty. After a gunfight silence seems eternal, filled with so much hope and prosper but at the same time was filled with so much doubt and fear; who was shot? Would they survive? Is this really over?

It was over, Dante's men lying dead or dying in pools of their own blood, their minds racing over their lives, their hopes and dreams. Family they would never see again. They would realize only then that their lives were worthless, they were worthless. All the glory they saw before in being in a gang was now gone replaced by feeling of contempt, anger and again worthlessness.

"55 Charlie to Central, I have an officer down, repeat; officer down, I need EMS on location now!" It was Davis. I looked to him and found him sitting beside me, pulse rapid and tears collecting in his eyes.

"Ghost, oh God, Ghost, you'll be fine, I promise," he said but we both knew that he was lying for me. He pulled my shirt open looking at my vest and my wounds. One round was stuck in my vest, right above my heart, but another round and struck my lower, right abdomen and another had struck my left thigh. I realized then that I was covered in a dark, sticky liquid that ranked of copper.

Oh, God, it's my blood…

"You'll be fine, Ghost," Davis repeated, I think more for his own assurance than my own. He pulled off his coat and pressed it hard against my two wounds. I let out a painful groan as pain assaulted my mind. My thoughts grew heavy, like a cloud, as I struggled to remember the simplest details.

I am Ghost. I am Ghost. I am Ghost. I thought over and over fighting for a single breath.

"Sully, Ghost was shot!" Davis yelled as the other three joined me at my side.

"Oh, God," Yokas muttered her eyes alive with fear. Bosco kneeled beside me grabbing my hand in his. His hands were so warm and strong. His gaze was like a warm fire that filled you with a sense of belonging, kinship and joy.

"Ghost, stay with me," he muttered running his finger over my knuckles, "Ghost, talk to me! Say something! Ghost!"

I had to say something, Bosco wanted me too…

"Isabelle," I whispered. Talking took so much strength as I groaned from the effort. "Isabelle Martin." My mind was fuzzy and I felt myself losing consciousness. I could no longer feel my arms or legs, just cold, hard attachments to my body. My chest felt as if an elephant was sitting on me. Everything hurt…

"My name…" I fought to speak, "is… Isabelle Martin…" The four shared a shocked look as Davis nodded gripping my forearms gently, but hard enough that I could feel it. His fingers were covered in my dark blood, sticky and viscous.

"Isabelle," Davis whispered as if trying the name out, "thank you, you didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did," my voice was barely above a whisper, my voice contending with the wind to be heard.

"Why?" Bosco asked squeezing my hand tighter, "why? You're just a kid."

"Because," I paused looking at each one the way I've always seen them; as my heroes. Camelot was a place where heroes go before going out to battle evil, but I was never a hero, I was a face in the crowd. The backup. A ghost. They, Bosco, Sully, Davis and Yokas, were the real heroes. I had no right to wear the uniform as boldly as they did. I was behind the scenes. They were heroes…

John 'Sully' Sullivan, the seasoned cop who knew the streets and the people better than he knew his own home. He was brave, able to look someone in the eye without flinching. Nothing frightened him. He was the one with the best advice and one of the best cops I knew. He fought against everything with the hope of another day. He always knew what to say and when to say it. I admired him for his wisdom and sense of judgment.

Faith Yokas, the strongest women I knew who had the strength to hold the hand of a dying man, arrest a murderer, fight her loser husband, Fred and make her kids lunches all in the same day. She kept her family together and kept Bosco from getting into too much trouble. I admired her for her strength.

Maurice 'Bosco' Boscorelli, so full of energy, life and steam. He is like a fire, raging uncontrollably at times but when his energy was channeled right, provided enough light and heat to protect you from the strongest winds and rains. He is a lion bursting of courage, never considering the consequences to his own life. He is one of the bravest cops I know and for that I admire him.

Tyrone Davis Jr. following the ghost of his father's past. He was so full of passion for what he did and would never give up until he helped you. He was stubborn but he listened. I have never known him to walk away from someone who needed help or turn someone down. He's smart and will never give up on you, ever. He's loyal and will stay with you to the end. I admire him for his kind-hearted spirit and loyalty.

These were my heroes…

"Because," I repeated feeling the last of my strength falter and flicker like a dying candle flame, "you are my family." I smiled at them then allowed myself to fall into the comforting darkness, breaking free of the pain and the sunlight. Away from my friends, my heroes, and into complete and utter blackness…

"Isabelle?" Davis shouted as Bosco swore. Davis began to administer CPR as Bosco breathed oxygen into her lungs. Yokas ran to grab the AED machine and as Sully yelled into his radio but they all knew it was hopeless…

Isabelle Martin, or Ghost as they knew her, was gone forever. Out like a candle, gone from their lives…

Davis and Bosco leaned back abandoning the hope to save their friend, knowing full well that she was gone. Davis ignored the tears slipping down his face as he pulled his coat over her head, shutting her out from the sun.

"There was nothing we could do," Bosco said encouragingly but tears lined his own eyes, threatening the fall. He gave a low groan full of pain and anger.

"We didn't even know her," Bosco hissed, "we didn't even bother to know her name!" The sound of sirens embraced them as the ambulance pulled up behind them as Doc and Carlos jumped out of the bus, running towards them bags in hand.

"Too late," Sully muttered somberly, "she's gone." He gave a sad smile and turned away, looking away from the body that was once his friend, Ghost, Isabelle…

Carlos slowed to a walk and peered over Davis' shoulder and looked at the cold carcass as Bosco lifted the coat away from her face to allow the medics to see. Carlos felt his heart drop as he dropped his bags, his mouth tasting of bile. Her skin, once radiating, was now dull and pale like a burnt-out light. Her face looked angelic and timeless, as if a statue immune to time. Blood pooled around her head, probably due to a hit in the head when she fell, like a halo. She looked oddly peaceful and heavenly.

He swore and turned to Davis, noticing the tears on his face and pain in his eyes, in all their eyes. "She was a good person, Ghost was," he said remembering all the times Ghost helped him without ever once raising her voice to him or asking for anything in return.

"Isabelle," Yokas corrected looking down to the body, "her name was Isabelle Martin." Carlos nodded looking back at Isabelle pulling the coat back over her head.

"She was a good cop," Carlos said.

"She was a good person," Sully corrected standing behind him.

"The best," Bosco agreed.

They stood there for a while saying nothing but allowing the short memories they had of Isabelle to roam through their minds and heart, wishing more than anything that they could have known her better; invited her over for a game and some beers, asked her opinion on a case, anything that would have made her feel like one of them. Like a hero.

"55 David, is situation resolved?" The radio squeaked, destroying the delicate, somber silence. Yokas rolled her eyes and grabbed her radio.

"Affirmative, Central, situation resolved," she answered, her voice low and dark.

"Lieutenant Swersky orders you back to the station."

"Ten-four," Yokas turned to Bosco and glanced at Isabelle, "c'mon, Boz, let's go." Bosco gave a sigh and stood watching Isabelle.

"Izzie," he said, "no matter how distant you felt, you were one of us, our family..." With a nod Bosco left with Yokas close behind. Doc turned to Davis and Sully.

"If you guys are done, we should really get her to the morgue," he said gently. Sully nodded and placed a firm, comforting hand on Davis' shoulder.

"Let's go, we have to arrest Dante for anything and everything we can." Sully took a step back watching Davis with fatherly affection for the young adult.

"Could I have a quick moment with her?" Davis asked looking to Doc, Sully and Carlos, "Just to say goodbye? She gave her life for me; I can't just walk away from her." They all nodded stepping away, giving Davis the privacy he requested.

"Isabelle, I heard you once say that you were needed in the back ground, that you didn't deserve to be one of us, that you didn't deserve the title of NYPD," he began his voice started out shaky and timid but grew in strength and determination, "well you do, you are one of the best cops I've seen; you are smart, decisive and all the best attributes you need in a cop. We were your heroes; we could tell by the way you talked to us, the way you didn't leave until you knew we were okay… Well, you were my hero; you saved my life and always knew what to say to make us better, I admire that your strong, smart and courageous, I knew I could always trust you to have my back… Thank you…" With that Davis stood and left, leaving Isabelle but taking the memories he had of her with him and never, ever forgot her.

Ten years later…

Sasha held her newborn child in the air, smiling with and indescribable feeling of pure joy. She turned to her husband and placed the child in his hands.

"What should we name her, Ty?" She asked. Ty looked at his daughter, at her spirited eyes and beautiful features, and knew immediately that there was only one name for her.

"Isabelle," he answered pulling his daughter close.

"Isabelle Davis," Sasha agreed with a nod. "Welcome to the world."