TITLE: Glimpses of the Past - Broken Promises
AUTHOR: Pedellea
E-MAIL: pedellea@hotmail.com
DATE: November 22, 2002
RATING: R for some domestic and child abuse
SUMMARY: A child's love, and the hope of a mother. It's a Bosco story.
SPOILERS: none
DISCLAIMER: Third Watch belongs to John Wells Production and Warner Bros. There you are. Short and sweet.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Finally, a second story to the Glimpses of the Past series I made up a few years ago! Note to self: I'm going to try exploring the pasts of other characters, besides Bosco...
Anyways, I've always enjoyed exploring Bosco's childhood, and how he could have been as a child. From the present events taking place in the show, this is what I deduced. I hope this is a somewhat realistic portrayal. WARNING: This story contains some domestic and child abuse.
GLIMPSES Of THE PAST - BROKEN PROMISES
By Pedellea
Dad was at it again.
Sitting in a corner of the bedroom, Maurice heard the screaming, the hitting, everything. Usually, he would be scared for ma and his little brother, but today, he felt only anger for his dad. It was the third time this week he came home drunk. He broke his promise of not drinking for the billionth time. More than that, he broke his promise of not hurting ma when he let him through the window.
He got up suddenly, purposefully.
"Where ya goin'?," Mikey asked, wiping a tear away from where he sat.
"I'm gonna stop him. It's my fault. I let him in the window."
"Don't go, Mo. Daddy won't like it if you..."
Maurice was out the door before his little brother finished the sentence. He knew his dad would start yelling and beating him too if he tried to stop them. But how dare he break the promises...
"Maurice, get back in your room!," his dad bellowed, stopping in a mid punch directed at his mother.
"Do what your father says, Maurice," ma added desperately, frantically.
"No," he announced defiantly.
"Maurice, get back in there or else..."
"Please, Maurice! Go back to your room..."
The 7-year-old stubbornly stood his ground, glaring at his father wordlessly.
"I'll teach you...," his father screamed, staggering to his oldest son.
Maurice lunged head first into his father's midsection, throwing his hardest punches, knocking his father to the ground.
"You broke your promises!!!," the little boy yelled over and over as he punched his father as hard as he could.
His father growled and rolled, pinning his son under him.
"Get off of him!!!," his wife shrieked helplessly.
Her demand was granted. Her husband got up, but not without roughly pulling his breathless son with him. Before Maurice could react to what was happening, his dad shoved him against the wall and gave him a good slap on the face.
"How dare you talk back to me!!!," his dad shouted into his face, shaking him forcefully.
Maurice could smell the drink in his breath. It stank. How dare he get drunk and come home again... how dare he beat ma and make Mikey scared... how dare he...
Next thing he knew, dad yanked him off the wall by his shirt, and screaming something about not apologizing, shoved him hard to the ground. His head hit the corner of the table, and everything blacked out.
When Maurice woke up, he heard his dad's gruff voice, asking if he was okay. His head really hurt, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
"Yeah," he replied instead.
His ma's face appeared.
"Oh baby," she cried and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
"So, Mr. Boscorelli," another voiced joined in, "you said your son hit his head while playing with his brother?"
"Yeah, doc. That's what I'm sayin'. You know boys. They love rough housing and all."
The doctor nodded.
"Well, we're going to keep Maurice overnight for observation."
"Aw, doc, do we need to do that? I mean, my boy here is tough."
"It would be best if we could keep an eye on him here at the hospital. Maurice sustained a concussion serious enough for him to become unconscious. We just want to make sure he's alright before you take him home."
"How much more would it cost if he stayed?"
"Would you *please* think of your son for once?"
Maurice hated this. How could his parents fight in front of a stranger? But his head ached too much for him to think about it anymore. Gradually, the voices faded and he let the comfort of sleep take him over again.
After a night at the hospital, Rose picked up Mikey from a neighbour's house and brought him and Maurice back home in the morning. Her husband had rushed off, supposedly going to work, after checking their older son out of the hospital.
At home, she left Mikey to be entertained by Saturday morning cartoons, and took Maurice straight to his bed. As she tucked him in his bed, she began to cry.
"Ma... what's wrong?"
"Maurice... why did you do it?"
Maurice knew full well that she was asking why he came out during the middle of their fight. It was an unspoken rule that should not have been broken.
"He broke his promises, ma. He said he'd never break them again."
"He could have hurt you really bad, baby..."
"But he was hurting *you* bad. He promised he wouldn't do that again. And he promised he wouldn't drink again. But he did. That's not right, ma. That's lying."
"Maurice, you can't make your dad angry when he's drunk. I'm not gonna let you, you hear me?"
"I didn't want him to hurt you again, ma. And Mikey was scared. And he broke his promises."
"Don't you ever do that again, okay? I can't lose you, no matter what your father does to me..."
"You won't lose me."
She gave her son a long kiss on the forehead, her tears dripping on his face.
"Oh, I love you so much, baby."
"Love ya too, ma."
"Oh, I know you do, honey."
There was a moment of silence as Rose watched her son snuggle into his blankets.
"Do you need anything, baby?"
"Can you stay with me for a little while? I don't wanna be alone."
"Of course I can."
She wiped away her tears off his face and stroked his forehead gently. As she watched him fall asleep, she thought about how she failed him, and how she didn't protect him from his own father. As much as she wanted to shield both her sons from the bad side of her husband, she could see more and more of him becoming a part of them. Her boys - both as stubborn as their father is. She would hate to see them change into what her husband is now - cold, unloving, and harsh. What happened to the man she had married?
Sighing, and knowing that she couldn't change her husband no matter how hard she tried, Rose prayed silently that her sons would grow up alright, even in midst of this chaos that they live in.
It was the only thing she could do.
THE END
I love you hear your thoughts on this piece! Please submit a review or send me an e-mail at pedellea@hotmail.com. Thanks!
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