Title: Through the Fire (1/5?)

Author: X_tremeroswellian

Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wish they were. Okay, well, I don't wish Cr*z or Fr*d were mine. Ed Bernero can keep them ;)

Rating: PG-13 for language, violence and sexual content

Spoilers: Up through and including "Crime and Punishment II"

Summary: Sergeant Cruz's true plans for Bosco are finally revealed and they're not good. Will Faith be able to help him? Or will she be too busy trying to protect her own family?

Distribution: My site, Only Time

Category: Story

Subcategories: Drama/angst/friendship...could evolve into romance, but we'll see ;)

Feedback: Is essential to every writer. Helps keep the muses flowing.

Author's Note: I know I'm in the middle of writing "Between Time" and my 'There For You' series, but this story was demanding to be written and wouldn't leave me alone until I gave in.

Author's Note II: The song is "If You Want Me To" by Ginny Owens.

Dedication: For everyone who dislikes Sgt. Cruz as much as I do. This is not to confuse the wonderful actress, Tia Texada with her character.

* * *

The pathway is broken
And the signs are unclear
And I don't know the reasons
Why you brought me here
But just because you love me
The way that you do
I'm gonna walk through the valley
If you want me to

'Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise
That you're not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to you
I will go through the fire
If you want me to

* * *

Through the Fire (Part One)

"Yokas, can you file this for me? I have to get to dinner or my wife'll have my head," Officer Marcus Browning said, giving her a pleading look.

She sighed and almost told him no. It had been a long shift and she was tired. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep. But she remembered a time not so long ago when her own husband hadn't been understanding if she ran late or missed a dinner date, and she felt a flash of sympathy for the man. She took the stack of papers from him and forced a smile. "Have a nice time," she told him.

"Thanks, you're a life saver," he said, flashing her a wide grin.

"Sure," she murmured, turning away. She sighed again and walked up the stairs to hand in the reports to Lt. Swersky. She quickly discovered he wasn't in his office. Damn, she cursed inwardly. Now she'd have to track him down.

Wonderful.

The day had started off much like every other day the past week had. She'd got up in time to fix breakfast for Fred and the kids, then had gone back to bed and tried to sleep til around one without much success.

She couldn't remember the last time she *had* slept well. It felt like months. Since before Fred's heart attack, at the very least.

Then she'd gotten ready to come to work, only to learn she was being paired with someone else for the shift. Again. But not because Bosco was working another anti-crime shift. Today he had the day off. She remembered a time when she knew what his schedule was because they used to coordinate their days off as often as they could so they could avoid having to get stuck working with someone else. Apparently those days were over.

She and Bosco barely even spoke anymore lately, let alone coordinate schedules. Things between them had never been this bad before and she wasn't sure the damage could be repaired this time.

She felt a wave of sadness hit her at the thought--a sadness that ran very deep and bordered on desperation. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and leaned against the wall for support.

They had been partners for eight years, and best friends for seven and a half those eight years. The thought of that being over hurt badly.

The past few weeks had been awful, and she had to admit that a lot of it was her fault, starting with when she had cancer and didn't tell him. Bosco had assumed it was because she didn't trust him, and that couldn't be farther from the truth. The truth was she didn't want to be treated like she was sick or dying by anyone else. She didn't want to see the same fear and worry in her partner's eyes as she did in her husband's. Didn't want to be reminded every time she looked at the people she loved that she might be not be around come Christmas time. It was selfish and wrong, but that was the truth.

And then all the stuff with Bosco's brother and Hobart had happened. And she had watched helplessly as her best friend had started to sink into a serious depression. When she told Swersky that Bosco needed someone to talk to and he'd been forced to go see a counselor, he'd been furious with her for days.

They'd gotten past that, of course, but it had been one thing after another this past year.

She'd said horrible things to him at the hospital after Fred's heart attack and while he'd never brought it up, she knew she'd hurt him deeply and she felt a horrible amount of guilt over it. Any time she had started to bring up the incident, he cut her off or changed the subject. She'd tried to apologize more than once, but he never let her. What's done was done and she couldn't take back the words she'd said.

Ever since then things between them had been tense and she always felt like she was walking on eggshells around him.

And now. Now he was working part time in anti-crime, and he hadn't been acting like himself since the day Miguel White had been shot. Since the day she confronted him, asked him if the gangster that shot the young boy had really given up Vernon Marks in his dying words, or if Sgt. Cruz had been lying. He'd paused, looked her straight in the eye and lied to her.

She wasn't sure Bosco had -ever- lied to her before and she wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. He hadn't said more than two words to her since that day. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to avoid her since then.

She hated it when he was angry with her. She and Bosco had had plenty of arguments and disagreements throughout their partnership and while she didn't care to fight with him, either, she could handle that. It was the silent treatment that she couldn't deal with.

And she and Bosco had never gone this long before without talking. One of them always, always broke down and initiated a conversation between them so they could work things out. Usually her.

Maybe she just didn't matter to him at all anymore.

Her heart ached at the thought and she quickly shoved it aside as she remembered the task at hand: finding Swersky and handing in the paperwork so she could go home and not sleep some more.

She headed down the nearly empty hallway once more.

"This could turn bad, Sergeant."

"I'm aware of that, Dobson!" someone snapped, her tone hushed.

Faith paused at Cruz's voice.

"So what do we do?"

"I'll call Boscorelli in on it. If things go wrong, we'll pin it on him."

"Boscorelli?" Dobson repeated.

"Why do you think I agreed to let him work with us in the first place?" she hissed. "Because he's a good cop? No. Because he's a screw-up and everyone in the precinct knows it. If we blame him if something goes wrong, no one will even question it!"

Faith narrowed her eyes, hatred for the woman filling her. You bitch, she thought, her hands curling into involuntary fists.

"Yokas, what are you still doing here?"

She jumped, startled, then cursed inwardly as she turned to see Sergeant Christopher standing behind her, his arms folded across his chest. "I was just on my way to find Swersky to hand in some paperwork," she said, her voice low.

"That's funny. It sort of looked like you were standing there eavesdropping to me," he replied with a smirk on his face.

She resisted the urge to hit him. "Well, I wasn't. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find the lieutenant." She turned and started to walk down the hallway, her mind racing. Bosco was being set up in a very big way and he had no idea. She had to talk to him, warn him before it was too late.

As she passed the office doorway where Cruz and Dobson were talking, she didn't look or she would have seen the glare that the woman sergeant had on her face.

"That stupid bitch," Cruz said angrily, shutting the door and shaking her head. She began to pace the office floor.

"Do you think she heard anything?" Dobson asked, worry obvious in his voice.

She turned and looked at him, her eyes flashing. "If she did, she just signed her own death warrant." She ran a hand through her dark hair. "Get Martin and Savenski to follow her."

"What should I tell them?"

"Tell them to make sure she keeps her big mouth shut. I don't care how they do that, but make sure they know that if that bitch breathes one word of it to anyone, they're the ones who'll be sorry," Cruz warned darkly.

Dobson nodded and hurried out of the office and down to the corridor to find his colleagues.

Sgt. Cruz shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Too bad for you, Officer Yokas," she said under her breath. "No one fucks with me and gets by with it."

Faith sat on the nearly empty subway car, staring out the window and biting her thumbnail absentmindedly. She had already called Fred and told him she was running late and had to go talk to Bosco. He had simply said, "Okay, be careful" and told her he loved her.

A few months ago, he would have screamed at her over the phone and demanded she come home immediately. Everything was different now.

She wondered briefly if she should have talked to Sergeant Christopher about what she'd overheard, but then she realized he probably wouldn't care anyway. Christopher'd had it out for Bosco since he transferred to the 55th. For all she knew, he was in on it with Cruz and Dobson.

Bastards, she thought, feeling intense anger threaten to overwhelm her. How could they do that to him? Bosco was a damned good cop and he had a heart of gold, even though he kept that fact hidden when he was around most people.

She glanced around the car. Two big guys were sitting near the back, talking quietly. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and quickly dialed Bosco's home phone number again.

The machine picked up once more, so either he was already in bed, out on a date, or saw it was her calling on caller I.D. and chose not to answer. She cringed at the last thought. "Bosco, it's me, Faith. Look, if you're there, pick up." She paused and waited for a moment, hoping. When no one answered, she closed her eyes briefly. "Bosco, okay, look, I'm on my way over to your place right now. I have to talk to you, it's really important." She stood up as the subway car pulled to a stop and the doors opened. She grabbed her purse and headed for the exit. "It's 11:21 right now. I'll be at your place in like fifteen minutes, Boz, so--"

Suddenly she felt something hard being pressed against her lower back. "Hang up the phone, bitch," a cold voice commanded.

Her heart skipped a beat and she slowly lowered the cell phone from her ear and shut it off.

"Don't turn around. Get off the car slowly and do exactly what I tell you. If you try anything, I won't hesitate to pull the trigger. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered, her tone quiet but calm, despite her fear. She walked slowly onto the subway platform, her eyes darting arond the station. The place was virtually empty. Her heart sank.

"Keep walking," the man said harshly.

Faith swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to her purse. If only somehow she could get to her gun...

He shoved the barrel of the gun harder into her back, forcing her to keep moving.

"I don't have very much money, but you can have my credit cards and my watch," she said, her voice soft.

"Don't want your money," the man replied.

Stay calm, she told herself, reminding herself to take some deep breaths.

He shoved her behind the nearest empty stairwell. "Drop your purse," he commanded.

Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Faith slowly lowered her purse to the ground. She heard a soft thud as he kicked it away from her, heard the metallic jangling of her change as it spilled out of her wallet and rolled away.

So much for my gun, she thought grimly.

She cried out as she was suddenly struck hard in the back. She stumbled forward, fell against the wall. A large hand covered her mouth. "Keep your fucking mouth shut, bitch! You make a sound and you're dead," he whispered harshly, his breath hot against her ear.

He forced her up against the wall, keeping his hand over her mouth, then reached up with his other hand and yanked her head backward by her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sudden pain.

"Hurry up," another voice urged.

"Shut up," the man behind her snapped. "You listen very carefully to what I'm about to tell you, because this is the only warning you're going to get, Officer Yokas," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

Her eyes widened and for a moment she stopped struggling. What the hell was going on? How did this son of a bitch know her name?

"Don't fuck with Sergeant Cruz. We know you heard a private conversation she had earlier and if you so much as repeat one word of that conversation to -anyone-, you're going to regret that decision." He released the hold he had on her hair, his hand wrapping around her throat instead. He squeezed tightly and she struggled to breathe, instinct forcing her to reach up and try to pry his hand away. He shoved her against the wall once more, her cheek pressed roughly against the concrete. "Do you know what happens to an officer who's a snitch?" he asked coldly. He yanked her head back by her hair again. "The people they care about get hurt real bad. Like their pretty little teenage daughters."

A surge of rage flooded her and without thinking about it, she elbowed him in the stomach as hard as she could.

She heard him gasp from the pain, then she cried out as he used his foot to kick her legs out from under her, causing her to fall to the ground face-first, the wind knocked out of her. Red and black spots shimmered in front of her eyes and she tasted the coppery-metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

"Guess we do this the hard way," the man said.

There was an explosion of pain in her ribs as he kicked her in the side. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to pass out as he kicked her again.

"Your daughter's real cute. Guess she gets that from you, 'cause her dad sure ain't much to look at," he commented as he lowered himself down on her back, pressing the barrel of his gun against the back of her head.

A tear escaped the corner of her eye.

With his free hand, he jerked her left arm behind her back roughly, twisting it hard. The pain was white hot, streaking through her like a flash of lightening. She bit down on her tongue, refusing to cry out again.

"Now I'm sure that we can come to an agreement," the man said, leaning down and kissing the side of her neck. "Because I'd hate for anything to happen to your daughter. Her name is Emily, right?"

"Fuck you," she whispered, refusing to give in to her fears as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

He chuckled, licked her earlobe lightly. "Be careful what you wish for, Officer Yokas. A guy might take you seriously. Pretty lady like you..." He moved his hand down the side of her body, his fingertips brushing against her breast.

She shuddered and fought the urge to vomit.

"But as great as you probably are, I bet that hot little daughter of yours is even better."

"You son of a bitch!" she said angrily, struggling against his hold on her.

He shoved her head down against the cold, concrete floor with the barrel of his gun. "I'd love to get my hands on her," he whispered in her ear. "Of course, I'd have to get rid of her afterward. I'd do it the right way. They'd never link it back to me. They'd be pulling her pieces from the river for months. Probably never find all of her." He twisted her arm again, making her feel as though she were being ripped in two.

"Please," she choked out, hating herself for uttering the plea.

"I can get to her at any time, day or night. I know where you live, I know where she goes to school, I know where she and her friends hang out. It would only take a second and you'd never see her again. I wonder if you could deal with that, knowing that you killed your own daughter." He paused, yanked on her arm once more and this time she was unable to supress the sob that escaped her throat. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear once more. "If you open your mouth, I'll get to find out."

"Leave her alone," Faith whispered, the pain making her vision blurry.

"As long as you keep your mouth shut, no one else has to get hurt. Your family and your little Emily stay safe. I know that's what you want, isn't it, Officer Yokas?" He twisted her arm a little harder, forcing her to answer.

"Yes," she choked out, another tear escaping her eye.

"That's what I thought." He loosened his grip on her arm, but only slightly. "And that can happen. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut and pretend you never heard that conversation that Sgt. Cruz had today. Because if you don't, I promise you that your daughter will be the one to pay the price. And there won't be a thing you can do to protect her. Do you understand?"

She swallowed, more tears streaming down her cheeks. "Yes," she whispered.

"Good." He planted a kiss on her cheek and she shuddered once more as he let go of her arm and stood up.

There was a sudden explosion of pain in her head.

Then everything grew dark.

Bosco unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him and turning the lock. He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and walked over to his couch. He sat down and laid his head back against the cushions, closing his eyes and sighing heavily.

He'd had the day off from work and had spent the hours visiting with his mother and helping her at the bar. He was tired--he hadn't been sleeping well for weeks now. Not that he ever slept -well- to begin with, but he usually got at least five or six hours of shut-eye a night. These days he was averaging two or three.

He opened his eyes again and his gaze landed on a framed picture on the coffee table. The photo was one of his favorites; it was a picture of him and Faith at Haggerty's that Kim Zambrano had taken a couple years ago. In the picture, he was sitting across a table from Faith, but they were leaning toward each other, their elbows on the table as they talked. Her hair was down and a smile was on her face.

He remembered that night with vivid clarity. The whole gang had gone out after the shift to celebrate Doc's fortieth birthday. He and Faith had both been in good moods for a change because they'd managed to apprehend a rapist the precinct had been searching for for nearly six weeks. He remembered that he and Faith had toasted each other on a job well done, smiling and laughing. He had driven her home later that night after they'd stopped at their special place and talked for awhile alone.

It seemed like such a long time ago, and he found himself unable to recall the last time he and Faith had actually sat down to talk, really talk.

He squeezed his eyes shut again, memories of his last conversation with her running through his head.

//"We would have found another way."

He could see the disappointment in her eyes, and he swallowed hard, looked away briefly, not because he was unable to deal with her disappoinment, but because he was disappointed with himself and if he looked at her for too long, she would see that, too.

"I gotta go. I'm gonna go tell Miguel and his mother that Vernon's goin' away." He gazed at her for a second longer, then turned away.

"Is it true?" she asked softly, following him.

"What?" He turned to face her once more.

"Did he really give you Vernon? Just between you and me, is it true?" Her eyes pleaded with him to be honest with her, to trust her.

Bosco looked right at her. "Completely true."//

He cringed and raked a hand through his short hair, wishing he could have that moment back, wishing he had been honest with her. But he hadn't been and there was nothing he could do to change that now. He wasn't totally sure why he hadn't been honest with her. There were lots of reasons, lots of excuses, but none of them were really valid.

He knew she knew that he had flat-out lied to her, which was something he had never done before. Not to Faith. And now he couldn't even look in her in the eye anymore. He had screwed up big time.

It's not like she's never lied to me before, he thought, feeling a brief surge of anger as he remembered how she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him about her abortion, or that she'd had cancer. At least not until she felt like she had no choice but to tell him.

He exhaled slowly. But that was the past. He'd been angry with her, hurt that she hadn't talked to him, but he had forgiven her. Because that's what best friends did.

Just as she'd forgiven him for all of the snide, rude remarks he'd made to her over the years.

But now...

Now he'd been avoiding her for nearly two weeks. He didn't have any idea how to make this better, wasn't even sure she wanted him to try. For all he knew, she didn't give a damn about him anymore.

He opened his eyes again, pushing all the thoughts away. He needed to get some sleep. Maybe if he did everything would be clearer in the morning and he'd suddenly know what to do about the whole messed-up situation with Faith.

He pushed himself off the couch and stood up, heading for his bedroom when the flashing light on his answering machine caught his attention.

Bosco pressed play and waited.

"You have two messages. Message one," the electronic voice told him.

"Bosco, it's me."

He was momentarily startled at the unexpected sound of her voice.

"Something happened, I really need to talk to you. Please call me on my cell phone when you get this message." There was a hint of urgency to her tone.

He immediately reached for the phone to call her back when the second message began to play. It was Faith again, and if anything, this time she sounded even more upset.

"Bosco, it's me, Faith. Look, if you're there, pick up." There was a brief pause. "Bosco, okay, look, I'm on my way over to your place right now. I have to talk to you, it's really important. It's 11:21 right now. I'll be at your place in like fifteen minutes, Boz, so--"

His eyes flew to the digital clock on his v.c.r. It was 11:52 p.m. She should have been here by now, he thought, frowning deeply. The next words on his machine made him freeze.

"Hang up the phone, bitch!" a cold male voice commanded harshly.

"End of messages," the electronic voice said.

He instantly hit play again, skipping to and listening to the second message again. Dread knotted his stomach. She's in trouble. He picked up the phone and dialed her cell number from memory.

"Come on, answer," Bosco muttered.

"Your call has been forwarded to automated voice messaging. Please leave a message at the tone."

"Dammit," he cursed, hanging up the phone. He hit the first number on his speed dial programming.

It rang five times before a familiar voice mumbled a sleepy, "Hello?"

"Fred, it's Bosco. Is Faith there?" he asked urgently.

There was a pause. "No. She said she needed to talk to you about something, that she'd be home late."

"Son of a bitch!" He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Was she taking a cab or the bus?"

"She's not there yet?" There was obvious confusion in Fred's voice.

"If she was here with me, would I be calling you to find out where the hell she was?" Bosco snapped.

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "I think she was taking the subway."

He hung up the phone without another word and ran toward the door, grabbing his car keys off the kitchen counter.

He made it to the nearest subway station in three minutes flat, breaking every traffic law ever invented. He didn't even bother trying to find a parking space. He left his car in the middle of the street and ran for the stairs that led to the subway tunnels.

His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. He didn't know what he was going to find, but he knew it wouldn't be good. She was in trouble, he felt it with every breath he took.

His worst fears were confirmed as he ran down the subway platform toward a group of five or six people crowded around the next stairwell. He spotted the familiar black leather backpack that she carried as a purse, saw the contents strewn about on the platform.

"Let me through," he commanded, shoving his way past the people. "Faith! Oh, my God." Bosco dropped to his knees beside her motionless body where she lay face-down on the cold concrete floor. She didn't answer him and for a moment, he feared the worst. Then instinct took over and he reached down and gently touched her wrist, searching for a pulse. It was there, steady, but slow.

He reached into his jacket pocket and yanked out his cell phone, quickly dialing 911.

"911, how can I help you?"

"This is Officer Maurice Boscorelli wtih the 55th P.D. I need a bus and the police at the 22nd Street subway right now! I have an officer down!"

"A bus and a squad car have been dispatched to your location, Officer. Hold on."

Bosco dropped the phone to the ground with a clatter. "Faith, can you hear me? Faith?" he said urgently. He reached out to touch her face when he caught sight of the blood trickling down her cheek. He swallowed hard and followed the trail of red liquid to the back of her head. Her strawberry blond hair was matted down with it, the collar of her jean jacket stained with it. There was so much blood...

He felt his stomach turn and he fought to breathe. He felt anger replace the fear and horror and he rose to his feet, glaring a the crowd gathered around. "Who did this to her?" he demanded, looking at each person in turn.

No one answered, they simply stared at him.

He grabbed the guy closest to him. "Did you do this to her, jag-off? Did you hurt her?"

"No," the man protested, his eyes wide as he shook his head.

"Who did? Answer me!"

He heard the wail of sirens from outside. "No one goes anywhere," he said darkly, glaring at them all. He knelt down beside Faith again, touched her hand. "Hold on, Faith, you're gonna be all right," he told her, looking up in time to see two paramedics coming down the stairs. "Over here!" he shouted. As they got closer, he moved out of the way. "Her name is Faith Yokas. She's my partner, she's hurt."

"We're gonna take good care of her," one of the medics promised.

Bosco swallowed hard and watched as they moved her onto a stretcher as the officers arrived on the scene and began interviewing the bystanders.

He felt the rage building up within him. Whoever had done this was going to pay dearly.

Because Bosco was going to kill the bastard.