Strength
Disclaimers: I do not, and have never owned any part of Third Watch.
A/N: This was written at the end of last season as a follow-up to Monsters. Originally, it was a stand-alone piece that evolved into three parts due to the wonderful feedback from the readers at 55 David.
Enjoy
TW~TW~TW
Silence blankets us after the storm.
There is an eeriness to it that covers me and my fear prevents me from looking up. For one of the few times in my life, I don't have the strength to make a move. I don't have the strength to expose myself and make myself a target of these gunmen. I lie as still as I can.
I hold my breath and wait.
There is no other sound and my thoughts turn to Emily and Charlie. They still need me and I can't take a chance with my life. My kids need their mom not a hero. Each second seems eternal. I force myself to be still, not sure if someone is waiting to fire again.
I realize that I don't feel any pain. I take stock of my limbs, moving one of my fingers and wiggling my toes. I am unharmed, as far as I can tell. Maybe, it's the shock that makes me unfeeling to my injuries because I can't imagine not being hurt during that barrage of bullets that sprayed the room.
I remain still. I wait and hope and pray these men are gone, that this nightmare is over, for now.
I hold my breath as I hear the crackling sound of glass when it falls from the divider window. I wonder if someone is there, waiting.
I close my eyes and swallow my next breath. My ears are tuned to every sound in the room. I hear fabric scraping against tile, glass shards cascading to the floor and a soft moan. I recognize Ty. I can't see him from my vantage point but I imagine him slitting open his eyes and taking in the scene. He doesn't speak, but I can tell he's brushing the glass and splinters out of his hair and face. His breathing intensifies as he tries to push himself up from the floor.
"Faith," He calls out.
Ty's voice seems small and far away. When I don't answer, he calls out to someone else.
"Bosco."
I wait and listen. There is no answer either and no sound of the gunmen. My gut tells me I need to get up. I try to roll over and as much as I don't think I'm injured, my body protests against this movement. I realize the chair is partially covering me. I push it weakly and manage to shove it aside as my body rolls to my left, towards the window.
I stare up at the open hole and freeze for a moment as my eyes search for the gunmen. They are no longer there. Ty struggles to sit up and I motion to him to stay down.
My eyes instinctively search for Bosco. He's lying on his back, staring at me, never leaving my gaze. The strength in his eyes is unbelievably true. I feel protected and safe and I know he pushed me out of the way when the bullets came.
It was his strength that saved my life.
I smile and blink my thanks to him because words cannot describe the gift he's given my children. I wait for him to sit up and gruffly ignore my gesture, to brush it aside with embarrassment the way he always does. But this time his gaze doesn't falter.
I see the strength of his convictions. He wants me to know, he did this for me. He wants me to know, he'd do it again.
His eyes never break their hold on me and I can only imagine the strength it took to never let me go while I pushed him away during the months I was recovering. I notice the stillness of his body, the shallowness of his breaths and the blood trickling out of the side of his mouth. I reach out for him, grab his hand and squeeze it, but he does not reciprocate my gesture.
"Bos," I whisper, leaning over him. "Bos..." I look deep into his soul as his eyes darken.
I pull open his jacket, exposing the crimson red staining his blue shirt. I rip it apart, the buttons popping. I gasp at the size of the gaping wound. It's an exit wound. My hands tremble as they hover over the carnage. I remove my jacket and try to stem the flow of blood.
I look down at his unmoving form. He should be screaming with pain but all I see is his strength and I can't allow myself to let this moment pass.
"We're even, okay?" I say apologetically because I know he's paid me back more than he'll ever know.
He doesn't seem to get any solace from my words and I feel the need to say so much more. I feel my fingers clamping down on my jacket, forcing down on his chest and in my struggle to keep myself together, I finally understand what he need to hear from me.
"All is forgiven, Bos." My voice a hoarse whisper, my eyes watering as the strength wanes from his gaze.
I'd never told him. Even when I came back. I gave him some excuse why we had to ride again but I had never actually forgiven him. In the end it was the only thing he wanted from me. I see the relief in his eyes and I realize that it was enough that he saved me and that I'd forgiven him.
He doesn't try to talk. He doesn't try to save himself. He blinks once in acknowledgement and allows his eyes to close slowly.
TBC...