Realizations and Promises

by Malinda4242

CoAuthored by: Malinda4242 and SSS Bosco dealing with his life as it is now, finds he can’t deal with it after all, and maybe doesn’t want to. Spoilers for Season Six after January 05 Adult subject matter, contains some strong language and scenes as well

Title: Realizations and Promises

Authors: SSS (Suzanne) and Malinda4242 (M)

Date: January 27, 2005

Summary: Bosco dealing with his life as it is now, finds he can't deal with it after all, and maybe doesn't want to.

Rating: R for Adult subject matter, contains some strong language and scenes as well as thoughts of self destruction

Parings: None Characters: Bosco and others

Spoilers: Contains possible spoilers for Season Six Eppis after January 2005

Realizations and Promises

May 2005

The iron gates creaked as Bosco pushed open one of the panels to enter the cemetery that lay alongside of St. Francis's Catholic Church. The cold breeze blew his hair back from his forehead as he pulled his jacket tighter to him as he hesitantly entered, his eyes searching the area ahead of him he spotted only one other person here today, a woman. She was kneeling on the marble border of a grave site, seemingly in deep conversation with herself. Bosco swallowed hard as he figured she was probably talking to whomever was buried in that spot; just as Rose had done when he'd come here the first time with her to visit Mikey's grave.

That trip had been difficult, for both of them as Rose had broken down and Bosco out of the hospital only a week and not ready for dealing with it had been reluctant to visit in the first place. Now though, he felt he was ready for this visit and wanted to do it alone. He was carrying in his gloved hand a small vase of flowers he'd purchased from the florist next to the sandwich shop he'd eaten lunch at. Careful not to trip over the loose stones he walked carefully along the path that took him past the kneeling woman and onto the area Mikey was buried in.

The ground was slushy beneath his feet as it had finally begun its thaw, small puddles of water lay along the path from the rain the day before. The air was clean and crisp but a strong hint of spring was beginning to show in the trees above his head with their tender green growth now sprouting. Finally he reached the grave, to see the new headstone had recently been put into place. Standing a moment he leaned down and set the vase carefully on the base of the Granite next to a large bouquet of red and yellow roses making sure it was not going to fall off before he stood back up. He figured his mother had placed the roses when she'd removed the silk flowers that had been here before, and wondered with a wry smile what had moved her to buy fresh when she'd complained so much before about the price of them. Shaking his head as he decided he'd never figure her out he took a step back to just stand a while and 'visit'.

Reaching his hand out, Bosco tentatively touched the roughened top of the gray stone, feeling its texture through his gloves he slid his fingers along as if caressing it, "Hey butthead," he tried to smile as he spoke, keeping things light as he didn't want to lose control here and have some other person just entering wonder about him as he'd done that sad woman he'd spotted, "how's it going?" He imagined for a moment that he could hear Mikey's retort and greeting, knowing it would probably have been something even more sarcastic or insulting, and then his smile at his thought broke as reading the name and inscription on the smooth glassy surface of the stone it hit him like a fist slamming into his chest, "No, oh no, it can't be, damn it Maurice how stupid can you be..."

Bosco dropped his head as hot tears sprang to his eyes, and he now knew why Rose had been so short with him two days ago when she'd called him to ask what he was doing today. His sharp tongued reply biting at him, "Working, then going home to sleep, what else would I be doing Mom!" Rose had immediately gotten quiet and though he'd regretted his mouth she didn't give him a chance to apologize and had hung up with a quick, "I've got to go Maurice, have a nice day at work."

Bosco found himself kneeling on the cold granite border surrounding the grave, he now was the one talking to the person buried below, "Mikey I'm so sorry, how the hell could I forget!? How the hell do you forget the day your brother was murdered?" His head lowered, one hand on the gravestone's rough top, the other shielding his eyes as with hot tears falling to the cold granite below him Bosco gave himself no consideration as to the fact that with his own near fatal injuries much time and space had been lost to him. Nor did he consider most of his past year spent in a coma or recovery a sufficient excuse. He'd forgotten, and he'd hurt his Mother, two things he'd vowed never to do, again.

A few minutes later he was quietly sitting with his back against the sharp edge of the headstone a plucked blade of new spring grass twisted between his fingers, "You ever wondered Mikey if anything you did would matter in the long run? I mean, if what you did, the choices you made would mean anything, make anything different or better? I never use to you know? I just knew. I knew it would all be ok, if only I followed the rules and did the right thing, made the hard choices, even if I didn't want to or like doing it." He glanced down between his knees, eyes searching the surface of the patch of grass as if he could find the answers there, "Now I can't figure out if anything means a damn thing, I tried to do the right thing by you, and all it got was you killed, Mom in the hospital, and Dad..." he gave a short harsh laugh, "haven't seen his face since your 'funeral'. Mom says he was around, but he never came to see me, guess you have to be dead for him to make an appearance, not just nearly dead."

He was startled when his cell phone rang suddenly, snatching it out of his jacket pocket he saw the time on the front panel before he saw the number, "SHIT!" Flipping open the phone he answered, "Boscorelli."

"Yea, yea, I know, I had something to do, I'm on my way," not giving Sasha a chance to say anything else, he quickly added, "bye, I got to run, and tell Swersky it was an emer...nevermind, just don't tell him anything..." and hung up. Jumping to his feet, he took one last glance back at Mikey's headstone, then found himself running for his car. Shift had started at two and it was now two forty-five, "Swersky's going to ream my ass, damn it!"

XXXX

"Boscorelli!" Lieutenant Swersky yelled from the back hallway leading to the lockers, "IN MY OFFICE NOW!"

Closing his eyes a moment, his head dropping down, Bosco shrugged off the laughter from the other officers over his getting caught again as he trudged up the stairs to Lieu's office, he'd hoped to avoid him by coming in the backside entrance, but it was not to be.

Entering he gave a half smile, knowing his lack of uniform wasn't going to convince Swersky he was 'doing some paperwork upstairs and just lost track of time' this time.

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, "Yes sir?" Bosco stood just inside the doorway, "I'm sorry Lieu, had something I had to take care of, and..."

"You know what?" Dave sat at his desk and leaned back his hands folded over his stomach to stare coldly at him, "I don't give a damn what you had to do, this is the third time this month Bosco that you've been late. And not just for roll call, LATE as in not showing up or calling in. Now is something going on you need to tell me about?"

Shaking his head quickly, Bosco tried to maintain eye contact with Swersky, but ended up glancing away to avoid his knowing look, a muttered, "No sir, nothing, I guess I over slept, sorry."

"Sorry," Dave sighed as he leaned forward away from the chairs back, "sorry isn't going to cut it. One more and you're going to get a reprimand in your file, and maybe a suspension." At Bosco's quick shocked look he added, "I don't want to make things hard on you, but you're leaving me no choice. Let me ask you a question, have you been attending your counseling sessions?"

"Please Lieu," Bosco was beginning to panic, "I can't afford a suspension, I won't be late again. And yea, I've been going to my sessions, just like the Department said I have to."

"Well, how is it going?" Swersky leaning back again sensed he was being shined on, but decided at the look of panic on Bosco's face to back off a bit, "Everything on track?"

"Yea, its going good," Bosco found something on the wall behind Swersky to stare at instead of Swersky's eyes, "he says I'm almost done. Probably be finished in a month or so." He finished with a half smile as Dave studied him closely.

"Good, that's good," Dave nodded slowly, "then you won't have a problem if I call and ask him?"

Now Bosco did look directly at him, but his quick, "No, no problem Lieu," gave Dave some hope that he was indeed doing as told this time.

"Ok, then get to work," and as Bosco turned to leave, "and I guess you won't have any problems staying late, seeing as how you need to make up this 'lost time'?"

"Yes sir," Bosco muttered as he hurried out of the office and to his locker to change.

As he left, Dave sat a minute puzzling over something then picked up his phone to make a call he wondered if he should have made already.

XXXX

A few hours later...

Bosco stood in horrified shock staring at the scene before him, his mind not believing what had almost happened, what he had caused to happen when suddenly his view of the scene was blocked by a very irate John Sullivan.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING, BOSCO?" Sully screamed, his arms down by his sides, his revolver still held shakily in his fist. He lowered his voice to a harsh snarl, "Were you trying to get somebody killed? You were supposed to have him under your control!"

"Sul, Sully, it's ok. Just calm down man." Ty quietly attempted to draw him away, a hand on Sully's arm, trying to diffuse the situation. "It's ok."

"No, it's not ok, Ty!" Sully jerked from his grasp, still in Bosco's face, "He almost got you killed!"

Bosco stood silently, his eyes cast down at his feet, his own arms hanging limply at his sides, a slight flinch showing he was hearing Sully, as Sully berated him, when suddenly he turned walking rapidly towards 55- David and away from Sully's angry tirade. Sully yelled after him, "Where are you going? Get your ass back here, Bosco!"

"Let's go, Monroe," Bosco's shaky voice was lowered to a near growl as he passed Sasha.

Monroe glanced back and forth between Bosco and Sully contemplating, then decided that maybe it was better to separate the two for now. Dealing with what had happened could wait until Sully cooled off, so turning away from Ty and Sully she followed Bosco to the RMP. She didn't know what was going on with Bosco, but she knew something wasn't right and now wasn't the time nor place to do this.

Sully moved forward to stop Bosco, but Ty stepped in front of him, speaking softly. "Just let it go for now Sul."

"Let it go?" Sully looked at Ty as if he'd gone insane, then yelled over Ty's shoulder, "THIS ISN'T OVER, BOSCORELLI!"

When she reached the car, after seeing the distant angry look on his face when Bosco started to open his door, Sasha asked in her quiet concerned manner, "Do you want me to drive Bosco?"

"Just get in." His voice was barely audible and coarse sounding as he climbed into the RMP and slammed the door.

Sasha did as told, just barely getting her door closed before the squad lurched backward from the curb, stopped abruptly then jolted forward as Bosco sped away from what had just occurred.

After fastening her seatbelt, Sasha braced herself, one hand on the dash, hoping that Bosco was paying more attention to the traffic than he appeared to be. "You want to slow it down a little, Bosco?"

Although he didn't make any comment about her opinion of his driving as he usually would, she was relieved when he did slow down to a reasonable speed. Sasha watched him closely on the way back to the station, at least that's where she assumed they were going. She didn't have the guts to ask just now after seeing the tension in his jaw and was left wondering, again, what was going on with him.

Sasha had been riding with him off and on since he'd been cleared for the streets and knew that he was having a more difficult time adjusting than had been expected. He was irritable at times, seemed down at other times, even seemed a little unsure of himself once in a while. Then he'd been really volatile after one particular episode.

She had been driving when they spotted a gang member they'd been looking for one night late on patrol. Bosco had jumped out of the car to confront the guy when he took off down an alley and led Bosco on a chase that lasted nearly five blocks. When Sasha caught up with him finally, he was bent over hands on knees gasping for air as he tried to catch his breath, the perp nowhere in sight. Sully and Ty had pulled up alongside him and leaning out of the drivers window Sully had jokingly and innocently remarked to Sasha that Bosco was getting too old to chase teenagers, Bosco had taken it not as a joke but personally and practically cursed him out before stalking away in a pique of anger. The next day when they'd left roll call he'd insisted that he was the senior officer and that 'he' was going to drive and she hadn't argued, sensing that maybe he was trying to avoid the possibility of being shown up by another perp.

Despite those problems, things had seemed to be going better over the last few shifts, until today. Today he was late, again, and again had been called into Swersky's office when he finally did arrive, and had been extremely quiet all shift, seemingly preoccupied. Then he'd frozen at a very critical moment when as Ty was patting down a suspect before cuffing him the other suspect had pulled a gun because Bosco didn't take him down when he should have. Endangering them all, but Ty in particular and only Sully's quick thinking had kept the situation from spiraling out of control. He'd saved Ty's life, but had to shoot the perp to do it.

When they reached the station house Bosco jumped out of the car almost running up the steps ahead of Sasha. Jerking the door open he waited impatiently for her to enter. She was about to bring up what had happened earlier, but his quick glare stopped her in her tracks. It was almost as if he knew what she was about to say and was daring her to say it. Instead she only commented softly, "I'm going to go upstairs and work on the paperwork, Bosco, I'll see you later."

Entering the precinct following behind her without a word Bosco headed toward the locker room, entering through the door on the opposite side from Swersky's office hoping to avoid him if possible, as long as possible. He figured Sullivan had already informed Lieu about what had happened and he was running figuratively if not literally now. Slowly pushing the door open, he glanced around thankful that for once it was empty. Crossing the room quickly he fumbled with his lock but finally got his locker open, then sat down heavily on the bench as what had almost happened, what he'd failed to do hit him.

He sat for a long time, seemingly staring at nothing, then a noise in the hallway brought him back to the present. Although it was only mid-shift, Bosco standing up, quickly pulled his street clothes out to change, almost certain that he would be fired on the spot as soon as Swersky could find him. Finished changing into them in only a couple of hurried minutes he set about emptying the contents of his locker into his gym bag, knowing he'd be too humiliated to return after Swersky was finished with him. Just as he was putting the last of his belongings in the bag, about to zip it up he heard voices approaching the locker room and the words spoken froze him to the bench's seat in humiliation.

XXXX

Ty slowly following as Sully charged up the Precinct steps was shaking his head in defeat at stopping this train and not looking forward to the rest of this shift. Sully flinging the door to the precinct open barreled toward the locker room to change his uniform shirt which had one of the perp's blood on it, as Ty turned to bring the surviving perp to the Sergeants desk for sign in.

Sully nearly growled his discontent as he headed up the stairs to the locker room wondering if he needed to change his shorts as well. It had been a long damn time since he'd been as scared as he was out there today. In his haste and preoccupation he almost ran over Faith upon entering the hall outside the locker room. "Sorry" he muttered pushing past her as gently as his anger would allow.

"Sul, what's wrong?" She asked in concern while following him as she recognized both distress and anger on his face.

"Your idiot ex-partner nearly got Davis's damn head blown off, that's what!" Sully snarled in fury, unable to stop himself from ranting at her.

"What?" Faith exclaimed stepping back as Sully stopped suddenly just outside the locker room door turning fully towards her in anger, as if she had some part in this.

"He's not right in the head, Faith! He came back to soon. Out there, today, " he stabbed into the air towards the outside for emphasis, "in the middle of a dangerous incident with armed suspects, he froze up and nearly got Davis killed!" Sully's voice grew louder and angrier with every word, "He just stood there like he was in another world while some skell he was supposed to have under control nearly took Ty's head off!" Sully took a deep breath then finished with, "And now I have to go before a review board because I had to shoot the son of a bitch because Bosco spaced out!"

Faith contemplated Sully's words for a moment as he paused, and also having recognized that Bosco was having some difficulties since coming back, she reluctantly admitted to him, "You might be right, Sul. He may have come back too soon. Before he was completely ready to handle it, but I'm sure he didn't..."

"Did it ever occur to anyone that maybe he shouldn't have come back at all?" Sully spat, "That he's just not ever going to be okay again out there, Faith? The way I see it, if today is any indication, he should just have taken disability and retired!"

"Maybe," Faith, shocked, replied more quietly, looking away from Sully. She was thinking that maybe she'd not noticed as much as she thought if he was indeed freezing as Sully said. Instead of arguing with Sully about it in public she began walking away, "I'll see you later, Sully," as she went down the hallway to go look for Bosco or Monroe to find out what had really happened.

XXXX

Bosco sat staring at the floor having overheard the conversation going on right outside the door. He was frozen in shocked humiliation at hearing Sully's accusations and Faith's seeming agreement to them. His stomach clenching he jumped slightly as Sully burst through the locker room door. Brought back from his shocked state he heard Sully grumbling, now knowing he wouldn't be getting out of here before Sullivan saw him.

Sully rounded the lockers heading toward his to change when he spotted Bosco through the grating between the set of lockers. Instantly he was around the far side and in Bosco's face again, as Bosco stood up quickly to take a step back from him. But Sully kept the bench between them, not trusting himself to get close. He wanted nothing more than to shake some sense back into Bosco right now, but instead resorted to yelling again, "You little son of a bitch. You ever walk away from me again on scene and I'll put you on your ASS!"

Bosco stared up at Sully silently as Sully continued his raging, then he dropped his eyes to stare at the floor offering no response as Sully ranted at him, merely taking what Sully gave him.

"Whatever is wrong with your head you need to get it FIXED." Sully hit himself in the side of the head with his palm for emphasis. "No one wants to work with anyone who's so screwed up he gets his partners shot or killed Bosco!" His loud voice was attracting a small crowd as other officers came into the locker room to see what he was shouting about. But Sully took no notice as he reamed Bosco for his actions earlier. "You know the score! You back us up or we don't back YOU UP ANYWHERE!"

Bosco startled again as the locker room door nearest his locker slammed open rattling the frame and he heard, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?" Closing his eyes briefly when he heard Lieutenant Swersky's angry voice, he opened them again to look guiltily over at him.

He heard the change in Swersky's voice as he spotted who was getting yelled at. "Where the hell have YOU been," Dave stalked over to him, "Why weren't you answering your radio?" Turning to Sully who'd begun to speak, "ENOUGH! Go get changed Sullivan, NOW!"

"But Lieu," Sully began, but was stilled as Swersky gave him a glare, one hand on his hip the other pointing to his locker. Sully finished with, "yes Sir." But as he passed in front of Bosco he growled low, "This isn't over Boscorelli."

"I said Enough, Sullivan!" Dave dismissed him as he turned back to Bosco, the other Officers all finding lockers and 'things' to do to avoid his wrath. They weren't about to leave unless he ordered them to and listened in as he now set in on Bosco.

"You didn't answer me." Dave stared him down, finding that not hard to do as Bosco's gaze hit the floor again as soon as Dave began speaking. But his anger didn't allow for 'gentle touch' this time, "What the hell were you thinking? You turned your damn radio off didn't you? I already talked to your partner; she said she didn't know where you were. You know getting your partners to cover for your ass isn't going to help you anymore out there, OR in here with ME." Dave might have just taken him to his office right then, but Bosco instead of standing and listening simply sat down on the bench his hand on his bag, and that set Dave off on him.

"STAND UP NOW OFFICER!" His yell making even Sully jump in surprise, but Bosco simply sat, seeming to ignore him, "I SAID STAND UP!" Again Bosco didn't move.

Bosco was suddenly overwhelmed by everything that had happened today, so even if he'd wanted to and he did, he couldn't stand. He knew what was coming. He was about to lose everything he'd ever worked for and it seemed there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Feeling as though his mind was on overload, Bosco although he heard Swersky yelling, couldn't respond. Through the grating he saw Sullivan staring at him in shock, stunned silent himself at Bosco's not standing when ordered, could even see the others watching the scene through the corners of his eyes, but all he could do was sit. Sit and stare at Sully's look of disappointment and obvious disgust at him.

Not in all the years of knowing him had it ever occurred to Bosco that he did indeed want Sully's approval, until now. And all he saw was disapproval in Sully's dark eyes. Swersky's too. He'd always known inside himself when he was able to admit it, that he needed Swersky's approval, and when he was really honest, craved it, but Sully's approval, that need took him by surprise, and left him feeling even worse at knowing now he'd never have it.

"BOSCO!" Swersky shouted, grabbing the shoulder of Bosco's jacket and shaking him, causing him to flinch, but finally gaining his attention. "IN MY OFFICE NOW OR YOU'RE FIRED!" Turning suddenly, Swersky left, the door slamming behind him.

Sully looked down then, turning to his locker as Bosco finally found the legs he needed to stand.

He slowly picked up his gym bag, putting it over his shoulder, and reached into his locker to pull his service gun down off of the shelf. His thumb passing over its polished surface, he gave a ragged sigh, knowing that he wouldn't be putting this back on anytime soon. Going to the door, following Swersky's path he slowly almost painfully headed out of the locker room, moving now towards his final judgment.

As he passed through the doorway, he heard behind him, "Idiot! Man, what a moron. Swersky's going to can him for sure now!" followed by Sully's quiet, "Shut the hell up Jackson!" echoing as the door clicked shut behind him.

The short walk to Swersky's office had never seemed so incredibly long to Bosco as it did right now. His stomach churned as he forced one foot in front of the other, refusing to look at his fellow officers as they passed him headed to the locker room. Nevertheless he overheard their whispered comments. "Idiot, man if I was Davis I'd have knocked him on his ass for that crap he pulled..." "Yeah, I heard Sully almost did." "thinks just because he got shot he can blame his mistakes on that? No one wants to work with him anymore, Monroe's a fool." He hesitated briefly with one hand gripping the knob on Swersky's door, their hard words ringing in his ears as finally pushing the door open seemingly resigned to his fate he entered the office.

As he entered, Swersky was pacing the floor behind his desk, one hand on his hip, the other clinched. Bosco stepped forward, dropping his bag on the floor and placing his service gun down on Swersky's desk. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his eyes never leaving the floor.

Swersky stopped, pausing to watch him for a moment without speaking before he stepped closer placing his hands down on the top of the desk opposite Bosco. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself, then let out a long sigh. "What the hell happened out there, Bosco?"

Bosco just stood silently, not looking up.

"What?" Swersky asked louder. "You're not going to tell me? Or you don't know?"

Bosco looked at Swersky briefly his mouth opening slightly as if he were going to speak, but he hesitated, his jaw tightening in stubborn defiance.

Swersky stood upright suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know Boscorelli, I was worried about you earlier today when you came in. So, I placed a call to Danny Henderson. You know Henderson, right? He's the department counselor that cleared you for duty, the one you're supposed to be seeing every two weeks to make sure everything's going ok? I wanted to see if he thought that you might need more frequent sessions with him. Well guess what? Danny tells me that you rescheduled your last three appointments. Said he had brought up some things he thought you needed to address and since that day six weeks ago, he hasn't seen You Again. Funny thing that? Because I was certain that you told me earlier today that you were keeping your appointments. How do you explain that, Bosco?"

Bosco shrugged, unsure of what else to do or say, what could he say?

Swersky, interpreting Bosco's reaction as a lack of concern or maybe even insubordination again, pounded the surface of his desk with his fist suddenly, causing Bosco to jump in reaction. "STUPID! THAT'S THE ONLY EXPLANATION I CAN COME UP WITH. IT'S STUPID AND IRRESPONSIBLE! BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY I SHOULD EXPECT ANYTHING ELSE FROM YOU, BOSCO! IRRESPONSIBLE SHOULD BE YOUR MIDDLE NAME!"

Swersky circled his desk approaching Bosco's left side, then spoke in a low growl. "I've tried to help you Bosco, for years. I've tried to be patient and understanding. I've even put my own reputation on the line to keep you here. BUT this is IT! Someone could have gotten killed today Bosco! AND THAT I WILL NOT TOLERATE! I won't let you endanger your fellow officers, the citizens of this city, or your own damn self because you refuse to get HELP!"

"I'm sorry." Bosco muttered with little emotion when Swersky stopped to take a breath.

"Sorry. You're sorry? Sorry still doesn't cut it Bosco! LOOK AT ME!"

Bosco's head snapped up and for the briefest of moments Swersky thought he detected a pained look in Bosco's eyes, hoping he did, wanting to help him, but then it was gone and the stubborn mule look was back.

Enough was enough, Swersky sighed deeply and with a heavy heart spoke, "I need your off duty gun and your shield." Turning and circling his desk again he stood across from Bosco, extending his hand. He hated what he was about to do, but knew that Bosco wouldn't get help unless he was forced.

Bosco swallowed hard staring at Swersky's outstretched hand, his chest tightening. This was it, his worst nightmare. Slowly reaching inside his jacket, trying to steady his shaking hand so Swersky wouldn't see what this was doing to him, he pulled his gun from his belt and slammed it a little harder than he'd meant to onto the desk instead of handing it across to Lieu. Then yanking his wallet from his jeans, he retrieved his shield, looking at it only briefly before tossing it down as well a slightly defiant look crossing his face as he refused again to hand Lieu what he was waiting for.

Watching Bosco refuse his hand, Swersky ignored his Officers obvious anger and explained firmly. "This is what's going to happen Bosco. You're suspended for one month without pay. That is, if I can get my superiors to go for that and not insist that I fire you on the spot. You, will, see Danny Henderson as often as he wants to see you, every day if needed, until the two of you get your head straightened out. If at the end of one month he's ok with you coming back you'll have a six month probationary period, on desk duty. And, if he thinks you'll never be fit for duty, you can take your disability and retire. THAT will be better than getting fired and being homeless. BUT let me say this. If you miss so much as ONE session with Henderson, don't ever even think about stepping foot in this precinct again! Is that clear?"

Bosco nodded his head 'yes,' not trusting his voice.

"Good. Then you're dismissed." Dave said quietly, sitting down heavily in his chair.

XXXX

Overhearing the shouting coming from Swersky's office, Faith had no doubt in her mind that Bosco had been located. Just the anger she heard she knew only Bosco could bring out of Lieu, now standing on the short stairs next to the Sergeants desk she could see Lieu's head in the open blinds of the window of his office as he tore Bosco a new one.

Off to the side of the window, Sully stood beside Ty looking a little in shock at what he was hearing and seeing, he looked away a moment and spotting Faith giving him a hard look, Sully dropped his eyes guiltily and returned to watch and listen as Swersky continued to yell.

Faith turned back to the window frozen in shock. Then she heard it, he'd suspended him. "Oh Bosco," Faith exclaimed softly.

Only a few minutes later, Faith saw the door open when Bosco snatching his bag from the floor turned hesitating at the door to compose himself then flung it open and headed out. He halted a moment upon seeing the other officers standing in shocked silence, then strode out in anger after first glancing over at Sully, who wouldn't even look at him, then he saw Faith on the stairs below him.

She saw the look he gave her, embarrassment and hurt written all over his face. Faith wished suddenly she was anywhere but on those stairs at that moment. His eyes suddenly filling with unshed tears, he rushed down the stairs brushing past her as if she wasn't there after all and out of the building as fast as he could get through the crowded station house of officers and citizens. No one spoke except Faith, "Bosco," his name said softly as he passed her she saw his shoulders hunch against her call.

Sully, as Faith followed Bosco out, glanced into the window again, he and Dave staring at one another a moment then Sully turned and went back to the locker room, Ty following silently. Dave sighed and shook his head as he tried to collect his thoughts before going back to his computer screen, he hoped for everyone's sake that Bosco would take his offer and do what he had to do to stay on the Job.

Sasha coming in to the building was nearly run down as Bosco rushed out, "Where are you going..." she began but was rudely pushed aside as he stormed past her, "HEY! Damn Bosco, what's wrong..." Her words lost on him as he ignored her and kept going, "I asked you a ..." Shrugging as she knew how futile it was to try to talk to him when he was like this she started across the floor to the Sergeants desk but stopped as she saw Faith and heard her call his name from across the room, "Ok that was rude," as Faith reached her, "what is going on now? Lieu chewed him out over what happened?" She knew it was coming and had hoped to be around to help diffuse it but now knew it must have been worse than she'd thought it would be.

"Yea," Faith told her brusquely as she passed, "and suspended him too after chewing his ass in front of everyone." She left out the comments Swersky had made about him being stupid and irresponsible, intent on catching him before he got away. Sasha watched her go, but left it alone for now, knowing that he'd just jump her for sure now if she tried to talk to him. She decided to let Faith deal with him and went to talk to Lieu instead about it.

Faith called out louder as she saw him reaching the outer doors "Bosco!" But, he completely ignored her, and so again she followed him. She found herself stopped as a small group of other Officers and civilians entered the building and by the time she got past the small crowd she could only try to follow and catch him in the parking lot.

XXXX

"Bosco," Faith called out, "wait up damn it!" Rushing towards him she had to get pass several officers on the sidewalk who were just coming in on break, but finally caught up as he was slamming the trunk of his car after stowing his bag inside.

"Go away Faith," he growled as he moved to unlock his door and get in, "leave it alone!"

"No, Bosco, talk to me," she put out her hand to pull his jacket sleeve and found her wrist in his grip, looking down at his hand tightly gripping her, Faith spoke softly to him, "I'm only trying to help you Bosco."

"I said, DON'T, you've HELPED me enough, Yokas!" His angry face as he tossed her hand away from him gave her pause even with the hurt she saw, "just leave me the hell alone!" Then his temper got the best of him, it was bad enough for everyone to hear what Swersky had said about him, but to see the look of pity in their eyes, her eyes, was more than he could take, his retort angry and mean and meant to hit straight to her heart, "DON'T YOU ALREADY HAVE KIDS YOU NEED TO MOTHER HEN OVER FAITH? GO DEAL WITH THEM! I ALREADY HAVE A MOTHER OR DON'T YOU EVER REMEMBER THAT?"

Faith took a step back, about to jump him herself for that comment when he yanked open his door and got in to slam it shut, leaving her now the one embarrassed as he started the car and tore off away from the precinct house. Red-faced and angry now herself, Faith glared at the few officers who had witnessed the scene stilling the small trickle of laughter that had started, she stalked off back to the entrance door now, leaving Bosco to deal with his demons on his own, whatever they might be this time.

It wasn't much later when Brenden coming into the locker room while asking another Officer walking with him if he knew where Bosco was, and was told what had happened and that he'd been suspended, that everyone remembered what today was. Brenden's, "Hell, I can't believe he came it to work anyway. Wasn't his brother found murdered a year ago today? Right before he was shot, right? I remember them talking about it in the academy, damn shame." He shook his head, walking off to his locker, leaving Sully and Ty exchanging shocked looks. Sully wondering if Faith had herself remembered, but decided in his shame at having not remembered to leave it alone for now.

XXXX

Driving fast along the boulevard aimless now in his driving, only knowing he didn't want to go home, Bosco was in a foul mood. The words Swersky had thrust at him churning through his gut making him more angry than hurt now. "Irresponsible," he muttered as he made the corner, "he's got his nerve! Maurice Boscorelli is as far away from Irresponsible as he is to a Slimfast shake!"

Spotting something he decided he suddenly wanted, Bosco whipped the Mustang into a parking spot, ignoring the blare of the horn of the irate driver he'd cut off. Flipping the man off as he threw the car into park and shoved his door open, he pulled himself out and stood staring at the front of the liquor package store's window, "Irresponsible? Screw him!" Stalking along the sidewalk he jerked the door to Dragon's Spirits open and stormed inside, barely acknowledging the greeting the clerk tossed his way.

Reaching the cooler in the back, Bosco searched the shelves until he found the Heineken then returned to the counter up front with a six-pack under his arm which he smacked down on the sticky surface before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

"Bad day at work?" The young clerk asked him as he rang the purchase up, his smile breaking as Bosco glared at him.

"How much?" Bosco nearly snarled, not in the mood for small talk held out the twenty dollar bill and watched in silence as the clerk finished ringing his beer up.

Realizing his customer wasn't in the mood the young man pulled back slightly at Bosco's tone, but then simply handed him his change in silence before he put the beer into a paper bag. "Here you go..." he began only to again be cut off as Bosco snatched the bag as he'd done the change and turned to leave, "Yea, you have a nice night too. Geesh!"

Ignoring the clerk, Bosco stormed out as quickly as he'd entered and was soon driving away the beer sitting on the seat next to him, unopened as of yet.

Driving around again directionless for a short while, he soon found himself in his usual spot for thinking and hiding out. Under the bridge. A place he'd spent a lot of time over the years, both to avoid nonsense calls and for thinking things out when he had problems. It was quiet here, a place for reflection and it was out of the way enough that he knew none of the other officers would stumble upon him. Only Faith really knew about this place, and Sasha, but he was pretty sure he'd taken care of those two problems with his deliberate nastiness back at the house. No one was going to bother him here, and that was exactly what he wanted and needed.

Pulling the beer from the paper bag, Bosco exited the Mustang, his well trained eyes doing a quick look-see of the area as he rounded the front of the car and climbed lightly onto the hood with his beer to sit. His scan found nothing out of the ordinary under 'his' bridge, everything just as it should be, deserted. No bums bothered to hang out here as they knew soon enough Officer Boscorelli would be coming round, with or without his partners to run them out so he could sit and...and then it hit him.

"Great," he muttered angrily as he pulled a bottle from the six-pack to twist the top open roughly, "just great." Swigging back on the beer he sucked down half the bottle before he stopped and with a quick wipe of his sleeve across his mouth was glaring across the empty fenced off lot next to the car, "Irresponsible, stupid," he toasted the underside of the bridge, "yep that's me. Man if Swersky saw me now...what a joke," head down he squeezed his eyes shut tightly before lifting his head to down the rest of the beer, then sourly commented as all his time spent hiding here avoiding his job crashed in on him at once as well as the irony, "that's it, hide Maurice from doing what you love to do, you stupid ass. Now what, huh? Now what?" Even he couldn't explain why this job, being a Police Officer, meant so much to him, yet here he'd spent so many hours avoiding doing it.

Leaning back slightly as he heard Faith's voice in his head as he cracked open the second beer, drinking it down almost as fast as the first one, "I'm not going to sit here all damn day Bosco just because you want to wait for some gun fight at the O K Corral!" then, "God forbid we actually prevent a crime Bosco!" and, "Useless, all you do is arrest people, unless I want you too of course!" finally, "Go away Bosco, I don't want you around me anymore..." The fact that since he'd been shot things had gotten much better between them lost when he'd heard her tonight outside that door, agreeing with Sully that he shouldn't have come back at all.

His second beer finished, he eyed the rest of the six-pack, but quickly decided he wasn't about to give Swersky or anyone else reason to make more fun of him or more reason to think he was a total ass with a DWI arrest. Leaving the rest until he reached his apartment, he pulled his feet up onto the hood of the car with him and wrapping his arms tightly around his knees put his forehead down on top of them for a moment before he turned his face and lay his good cheek on his knee. He watched the loose papers roll and skip across the empty lot now, a lone Styrofoam cup joining in as it rolled along through the dirt, the wind only slightly less than earlier today he felt a shiver from the slight chill coming over him, but the warmth of the Mustang's hood managing to keep it at bay for the moment.

A deep sigh later and he was going over what had happened today with the perp, as well as other incidents that had lately made him worry that something was wrong with him that the Doctor had missed.

He knew he'd never before frozen facing down a perp, ever, it just didn't happen to him. "Even the guy with the damn dye bag I didn't freeze on," he knew now what had caused that, and was pretty sure this wasn't the same type of thing. Going over and over and over it in his head all he could see was Ty standing off to the side and to the front of him, the perp pulling his hand out from his coat, lifting his gun ready to shoot and Ty unable to respond as he was already trying to cuff the other man. His heart in his throat he could only watch in horrid fascination as the gun lifted higher and higher, and he suddenly couldn't remember what he was suppose to do to stop this. Then he saw and heard the loud sounds as the perp's chest exploded in a burst of red, Sully's gun firing twice as he ran towards them, the sound bringing Bosco back but he still stood unable to move. Even as Sully berated him in front of everyone there, and why he'd run away, again he was at a loss. Getting yelled at seemed sometimes like it was half his damn career, not something he ever got used to hearing, but he sure as hell never 'walked' away from an ass chewing much less ran away like he did today. And he admitted to himself had he been given the same chance in the locker room, he'd have run then too.

Hot tears again stung his eyes, and Bosco swiped hard at them, again something he had done before, but not like lately. It seemed lately everytime something got too much to handle he was crying like some damn kindergartner, and thanked God it hadn't happened in front of anyone, yet. He felt so out of control, yet was so scared of seeking his counselor's advice, afraid he'd tell Swersky and the other Boss's he shouldn't be working... "Damn it!" His angry shout as he again realized hiding what was going on mattered not, he was suspended anyway. Sliding down off of the Mustangs hood he rounded the side again, snatching the six-pack from the shining blue surface before he tossed it onto the passenger's seat and slid in to start the car.

Driving home, Bosco decided that beer wasn't enough tonight, more hot tears flowing now, and unable to control them his anger grew at the out of control feeling taking over him. The twisting and turning of his thoughts and emotions bringing him to a brink that he was both looking forward to rushing over and terrified of what was on the other side. He knew now that the bottle of bourbon he kept stashed in his kitchen was going to get a hard work out this night.

XXXX

Opening his door to his apartment, Bosco slung his gym bag across the living room to watch as it landed on the couch and fell off to hit the floor heavily. The sound of breaking glass reminding him too late that he had taken all of his personal possessions out of his locker tonight, "SHIT!" His angry words as he kicked the door closed and slammed the lock into place before he lifted and smashed the chain into place, loud. Quickly he rushed to the kitchen to open the refrigerator and nearly dropped the six-pack of beer as he pushed it hurriedly inside, having to pull a casserole that his mother had made and dropped off the week before out to make room. Setting the half eaten dish in the sink he made sure the beer was in the coldest spot and shut the door hard on it.

Deciding the bag could wait, Bosco reached up into his cabinet and pulled down the bottle of bourbon. Twisting off the cap he started to reach up and take down a glass, then, "Nope, not fast enough tonight!" Kicking back the bottle he upended it as he swallowed rapidly, the warm caramel flavor, sweet but creamy flowing over his tongue. Warm slow fire building as it hit his throat, coating down, the fire grew until his stomach bloomed with it. Gasping as he lowered the bottle, Bosco had new tears rushing to his eyes, but these were caused by the bourbon's rush to befriend him and take him to a place no one could hurt or touch him, these tears he welcomed. Lifting the bottle again, Bosco reveled in the strong yet richly smooth flavor, again experiencing the burn and warmth that only a good aged bottle of bourbon could give him. A long drink later and he was feeling it, and the numbness he sought was edging its way into his mind and body, finally.

But it wouldn't last long as returning to the living room, and knowing it had to be his cologne or his aftershave that had broken, his anger blossomed as the bourbon in his stomach had done and he stormed over to the couch. Leaning down to pick the bag up, "Just one damn thing, ok, just one damn thing, that's all I ask, one thing go right!" Unzipping the bag he was already being hit with the overwhelming scent of the cologne, quickly dumping out the contents of the bag onto the coffee table he saw that it was all over everything, his clothing saturated with it, his spare ticket book binder's edges already curling up as the alcohol penetrated it, even his tennis shoes and hat were soaked now.

Another curse and he gave up, just dropped the bag where he stood and with a shouted angry, "SON OF A BITCH!" Bosco lost control finally, swigging hard again from the bottle of bourbon before he began to rage.

Reaching down he swept the end of the coffee table clear of the bags contents, scattering them across the floor with his hand and forearm. His temper lost he was picking up the large orange deco bowl that he'd found on a flea market trip with a long forgotten girlfriend then tossed it as hard as he could at the opposite wall, watching and hearing it shatter he gave only a moments pause as suddenly it hit him, "MAN, SHIT THAT FELT GOOD!" But his good feeling didn't last. As soon as he had thrown the bowl he was throwing everything he could get his hands on. Alternating between drinking and tossing objects just to watch them break, but it wasn't enough, nothing was enough to get rid of his growing rage, and every object that flew from his fingers only seemed to add fuel to his fire.

"I'M NOT IRRESPONSIBLE," he shrieked, "I'M NOT STUPID EITHER YOU JAGOFFS! I WAS SHOT!" The fact that he was tearing his apartment asunder, a completely irresponsible and in most ways; as it hurt only himself, stupid thing to do lost on him now. He set the bottle down out of the way, some part of him in control enough to not want to lose his 'friend Jack'.

Reaching up onto the wall he tore his picture of the Twin Towers down to slam the fragile frame down onto his coffee table, cracking both the frame and shattering the glass covering the photograph. The table's surface deeply gouged, Bosco flung the destroyed picture away from himself and in near madness searched for more things to destroy to feed his raging temper.

Lifting the coffee table with both hands by its edge he tossed the wooden object as hard as he could, but wasn't satisfied with it merely flipping onto its top, no, he wanted more from it. Grabbing its end Bosco lifted it and picking it up to nearly over his head he threw it so hard its 'back' shattered against the frame of his bedroom's entrance to fall to the floor in almost two pieces. Staring at it, breathing like a train, Bosco charged it like it was a quarterback, reaching down he lifted it again and spinning around a scream erupting from his throat, one whole side of the table falling to the floor as it broke finally in two, he threw the end he'd retained as hard as his fast growing tired arms could manage and watched in morbid fascination as it impacted the television sitting on the stand against the wall. The minor explosion of the television's screen bringing him back to himself finally as smoking, the television along with the coffee table remains, and the television stand it sat on crashed down to lie across the floor, the entrance to the kitchen almost but not quite blocked by this ending of his tempers fit of destruction.

Chest heaving as he came down from his loss of control, Bosco knew he needed to just get as drunk as he could and forget the rest of the world existed. Sweating heavily, he shrugged out of his jacket, leaving it where it dropped among the debris that was once his living room. Bosco snatched up the bottle of bourbon, already half gone, then he staggered into the kitchen, the effects of his drinking and raging taking its toll as he did so.

XXXX

Slamming the bourbon down on the counter top, he snatched the door to the fridge open to retrieve the beer he'd put in earlier, hanging onto it for balance as he leaned down and pulled out three bottles placing them on the counter top.

Standing on unsteady legs, he reached for the bourbon with his right hand, but lost his balance stumbling forward, knocking two of the beer bottles over along with the butcher's block of knives sitting on the countertop. Quickly steadying himself, he reached for the butchers block setting it upright, but hesitated his hand lingering on one of the smooth black handles. He swallowed dryly, pulling the knife from the block, the 6 inch stainless steel blade shimmering under the kitchen lighting. He turned the knife, studying it, running the thumb of his left hand gently along the blade. It was razor sharp, as he always kept them. He stared at the instrument long and hard, then slowly traced a path up the middle of his left forearm with its tip, a long thin bloodless scratch left behind as it moved upward. Bosco turned the blade slightly, his heart thumping madly in his chest, realizing that with one swift downward motion, he could end this nightmare that some called a life.

"Did it ever occur to anyone that maybe he shouldn't have come back at all?"

"The way I see it, if today is any indication, he should just have taken disability and retired!"

"Whatever is wrong with your head you need to get it FIXED."

"Idiot! Man, what a moron."

"IT'S Stupid and Irresponsible!"

"If he thinks you'll never be fit for duty…you'll never be fit for duty"

"Idiot…moron…stupid…irresponsible…idiot…"

Bosco squeezed his eyes closed, hot tears trickling down his cheeks, his shaky hand pressing the tip of the knife into his skin. He jumped slightly, jerking his eyes open as the blade accidentally pierced his flesh. Looking down at the small bleeding wound, he recalled the many times he and Faith had responded to calls for suicide attempts where people, mostly women, had slashed their wrists. Attempts…that's what many of them were. They either panicked before they bled to death and called for help or someone found them before they bled out. He studied the knife again, a bitter smile forming on his lips. With his luck and STUPIDITY, he'd probably managed to screw it up too. How could he ever face any of his coworkers then? He could hear them now….

"Did you hear about Boscorelli? Tried to kill himself. Slit his wrist like a woman. Stupid bastard couldn't even do that right."

Disgusted, he tossed the knife onto the cabinet, scooping the beer bottles against his chest with his left arm and grabbing the bourbon in his right hand, intending to stop this agony one way or another. Exiting the kitchen, heading toward his bedroom he turned the bourbon up taking another long drink. With this distraction, he failed to watch where he was going or to remember that he'd practically destroyed his living room and was caught unprepared when his right foot became tangled in the cord to the television sending him hurdling headlong towards the floor. He reached out reflexively with his right hand trying to break his fall, but only managed to crash down onto the bourbon bottle, shattering it, the jagged edges sinking deep into his flesh.

"Ahhhhh….shit!" He gave a short scream, rolling to his right side while pushing himself up into a seated position with his left hand, leaving the beer bottles amazingly intact in the middle of the floor. Grasping his right hand in his left, he cradled it to his chest, feeling nauseated at the sight of a large shard of the glass embedded in his palm and the deep cut extending downward to just above his wrist, blood quickly covering his hand and forearm.

Groaning loudly in pain a short gasping yell coming from him as the bourbon set the wounds on fire, he scrambled to his feet practically running to the bathroom sink, shoving his hand under the cold water. Bosco again screamed as the water hit the wounds but cut if off quickly biting his lip, tears in his eyes now from the physical pain. Staring long and hard at the shard of glass, knowing he'd have to remove it so he could try to stop the bleeding, he grasped the edge firmly, closed his eyes and jerked. "Ahhhh….son of a…." Knees instantly weak he braced himself with his left hand on the cabinet as he leaned his forehead against the bathroom mirror, biting his bottom lip again trying to avoid passing out. Finding the coolness of the mirror's glass surface strangely comforting, he waited for the sick feeling to pass.

Finally, when he felt as if the room had stopped spinning, he leaned back from the mirror and reached for the hand towel to compress the wounds. Hesitating, he stood watching the blood mingled with water escaping down the sink drain. Swallowing hard, he looked up at the mirror, hardly recognizing the man he saw and wondering what would happen if he just left the wounds unattended. "Doubt I'd be lucky enough to not wake up in the morning." Sighing audibly, he wrapped his hand and wrist tightly in the hand towel and reached into the cabinet under the sink to retrieve the first aid kit. Fumbling through it, he contemplated using the antiseptic, but remembering the sting of the bourbon decided he'd rather die of gangrene. "Might not be a bad way to go, better than this hell I'm living in."

Luckily he still had some bandages left over from when he was released from the hospital and soon had a bulky bandage in place with only a trace of blood seeping through at the base of his hand. He knew that he needed stitches, badly, but he really didn't care. He just wanted this misery to end and with that thought in mind, he went back to the living room to retrieve his beer.

Kneeling on the floor, he contemplated picking up the shattered pieces of the bourbon bottle, but decided it could wait. Grabbing the beer bottles, he headed back into his bedroom, setting the bottles on a small endtable beside the bed and sitting down on the bed with a sigh. Taking a bottle with his left hand, he placed it between his knees, holding it while twisting the cap off. .Then turning it up, he swigged the cold liquid down as fast as he could, only hoping the alcohol would quickly numb the pain he was in. As the last of the bitter hops tasting brew hit his throat he slammed the bottle down onto the endtable next to the bed. Hunched now over his hand, breathing heavily as he held it protectively to his chest, he waited for the alcohol to take effect.

Closing his eyes, Bosco breathed deeply as the pain in his hand gradually decreased. But the pain in his heart remained the same. Reaching up, he pulled a couple of pillows from under the comforter, adjusting them so he could lie back and finish his beer. Leaning back forward, he caught the heel of his right shoe with his left foot, pushing it down as he pulled his foot out. Reaching down he then grabbed his left pants leg for support as he pushed the left shoe off in the same manner. When he did, his pants leg slid up slightly and he found himself staring at the .38 revolver in his ankle holster. He'd been wearing the Smith Airweight as his backup weapon since his return to work because it was smaller and lighter than his off-duty weapon. By now, it had become such a part of him that he hardly ever noticed that he had it on. In fact he'd forgotten about it tonight and apparently Swersky had as well or he'd have taken it from him when he suspended him.

Bosco sat upright closing his eyes as he released his pants leg, his hand sliding up to rest on his knee as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

"The way I see it, if today is any indication, he should just have taken disability and retired!"

"Idiot! Man, what a moron."

"You'll never be fit for duty"

"IT'S Stupid and Irresponsible!"

Blinking away the tears, he looked up at the bathroom door, remembering a conversation he'd had with Faith years ago after dealing with a jumper.

"You want to off yourself, a shotgun and a bathtub, nice and clean and easy."

Looking hesitantly back down at his ankle, his pants leg having been caught by the ankle holster, leaving his gun fully visible, he soon found himself unable to take his eyes off of it, thinking 'why not? What do I have to live for?'

"Whatever is wrong with your head you need to get it FIXED."

"IT'S Stupid….Stupid….Stupid."

"Useless, all you do is arrest people…"

"Go away Bosco, I don't want you around me anymore..."

"IRRESPONSIBLE SHOULD BE YOUR MIDDLE NAME!"

"I won't let you endanger your fellow officers"

"You're suspended."

"If he thinks you'll never be fit for duty"

"You can take your disability and retire"

Reaching down slowly with his left hand, Bosco half-expected the gun to burn him when he touched it, but instead he felt the familiar smooth handle almost coaxing him. Unsnapping the holster, he grasped the gun with his left hand, lifting it slowly until his hand rested on his left leg. Swallowing hard, he looked back at the bathroom door realizing that he could take back control of this rollercoaster that was his life. Placing his right hand down on the bed, he winced as he pushed himself into a standing position. On sluggish legs, he slowly made his way to the bathroom door and stood holding on to the doorframe staring longingly through tear-filled eyes at the tub. Moving forward slowly, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, but turned away, focusing on the task before him.

Pushing the shower curtain open with the barrel of the revolver then bracing himself with his right hand on the tile wall, he lifted one shaky foot and then the other into the tub, not realizing that he was leaving bloody hand marks in every place he touched. Turning his back to the wall, he lowered himself slowly into the tub holding onto a towel rack on his right and the edge of the tub on his left, the gun still in his grasp. Once seated, he leaned his head back against the cool tile wall, closing his eyes once again and breathing deeply trying to slow his pounding heart, fresh tears trickling down his cheeks.

Pulling his knees up, he opened his eyes once again, studying the weapon and transferring it to his right hand. Through the bulk of the bandage, he could barely maneuver the gun and realized quickly that he wouldn't be able to pull the trigger with that hand. Shifting it back to his left hand, he frowned at the sight of his blood on the otherwise untarnished metal and rubbed the gun vigorously against his pants leg trying to clean it. And then he laughed. A wry little chuckle escaped his lips as he thought about how absurd it was to be worried about a little blood on his gun when he was about to splatter blood and brains all over the wall. But then again, he'd always taken great pride in the condition of his weapons, as Sully had once pointed out. "Bosco treats his gun better than his girlfriends."

Bosco could hear Sully's voice so plainly, then he heard Sully's other words. "No one wants to work with anyone who's so screwed up he gets his partners shot or killed Bosco!"

His chuckle gone, Bosco's jaw tightened with anger. "To hell with Sully…to hell with all of them!" His resolve renewed, he grabbed the shower curtain with his right hand jerking it closed. Adjusting the revolver in his left hand so that his finger was on the trigger, he turned the weapon towards his mouth, closing his eyes to avoid looking down the barrel.

The cold metal felt strange, larger than he'd expected yet smaller at the same time. Placing his right hand on the edge of the tub he shifted, trying to get comfortable, the bottom of the tub suddenly feeling as hard as marble. He swallowed hard, the taste of gun oil permeating his senses. He hesitated, exhaling heavily when he realized that his left hand was trembling. Bosco shifted forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his right hand moving to steady his left. The last thing he wanted was to jerk the trigger and have the janitor find him with the job half done and him be left a vegetable for the rest of his life. 'Come on, Boscorelli. Get a grip. Don't screw this up too….you stupid Jagoff.'

He breathed slow and deep trying to remember his yoga training, trying to calm himself down so he could do this right. 'Relax, Maurice. You can do this.' Then he heard another voice. "Just relax, Bosco. You know what to do. Just focus…exhale slowly….squeeze the trigger. You can do this Bosco."

Tears stung his eyes once again as he heard Faith's voice from one of their trips to the firing range. She had gone with him several times after his release from the hospital to help him with his shooting, but with poor results. His gun had felt awkward in his hand, like he was picking it up for the first time in his life and his hand eye coordination was serious impaired. He was certain that he wouldn't pass the test to be cleared for duty and he wouldn't have without Faith's 'HELP.' Neither of them ever mentioned it, but Bosco knew that Faith had done for him what he'd offered to do for her at the academy. Squeezing his eyes shut, Bosco could feel the bile rising in his throat as it always did whenever he thought about what had happened, disgusted with himself because of his own limitations and also because he had allowed Faith to do what she did.

'Stupid….stupid and irresponsible…Lieu was right.' Swallowing, forcing the bile back down, he exhaled slowly putting the slightest of pressure on the gun's trigger. 'Just relax…focus….breath….you can do this….exhale…squeeze…'

Bosco jerked, his heart pounding in his chest as the phone rang loudly. His eyes shot open and he glared at the shower curtain almost daring the phone to ring again. When it did, he lost it, jerking the gun out of his mouth and slinging the curtain open, screaming at the phone as the answering machine began to pick up. "DAMN IT, FAITH! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE? I TOLD YOU I DON'T NEED A MOTHER!"

"Maurice? Maurice, it's your Mom. I'm sorry about the other day, Maurice. I realized that you might not have remembered what today was…"

Bosco stared into the bedroom in shock, unable to move, as he listened to his mother ramble.

"I tried to call your cell phone but you didn't answer, so I called Faith. She said you'd left early, didn't say why, but I knew you must have remembered. I know you may want to be alone right now, Maurice, but I….I just needed to see you baby…" Rose's voice cracked. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm on my way over. I'm on Baker Street now so I'll be there in a few minutes. Oh, and I'm bringing ravioli so I hope you're hungry."

Swallowing hard, Bosco looked forward at the gun in his hand as though he was seeing it for the first time tonight, a barely whispered, "son of a bitch..." escaping him. The phone line went dead, the answering machine signaling with its rhythmic beeping that a message was waiting, and suddenly he was standing in the tub, "damn it!" Running his palm hard over the top of his head, Bosco was frantically looking around him, the blood smeared hand prints on the shower curtain and the wall glaring at him. Gulping against the rising bile that threatened to overtake him at the thought of his mother seeing this, finding out what he was about to do forcing him from the tub. Scrambling through the bathroom door he stood staring down at the phone, then slamming the gun down he ran back into the bathroom and snatching up a towel set to work trying to wipe the blood from the wall and sink.

Realizing quickly he wasn't going to erase the markings, Bosco dropped the towel into the small hamper and raced out of the bathroom, crossing into the living room he stared in shocked horror at the destruction that he'd created. "Oh crap!" He knew as soon as Rose saw this she would be calling in reinforcements, or at least the cops, she'd never believe he'd done this, she knew how much care he took of his possessions. Rushing like he'd not just been sitting in his bathtub about to take his own life, Bosco began to try to right the living room's mess. Tossing the broken frame into his bedroom underneath his bed, he returned and ran into the kitchen for the broom. Sweeping frantically, he looked around and finally just shoved the broken glass fragments underneath the couch.

Last in the clean up were the coffee table its two broken parts loud witness to the rampage he'd been on only a short time ago and the shattered television and its stand, Bosco stared at the mess unsure what to do now. He could do nothing about the bourbon smell, but figured he could cover up that with a 'trip and fall' excuse. His hand was after all cut, "Oh man," he now looked down at his hand, then before he could do anything else...

A sharp knocking on the door, and his mothers worried voice calling out, "Maurice, baby I know you're in there, I saw your car parked downstairs! Open up!" Bosco froze in his tracks, staring at his apartment door in horror.

"Maurice, baby, I know you're in there! Open this door!" Rose outside the door had heard him moving but now there was silence. She knocked briskly again and waited.

Bosco swallowed dryly wondering if there was any way he could avoid letting his Ma into his apartment, but knowing it was hopeless. "Coming" he almost whispered. Unlocking the chain, he slowly turned the knob, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and cracked the door open slightly, peering out into Rose's worried face.

"Baby, why didn't you answer the phone?" Rose began to move forward to enter the apartment, but saw he was blocking her, "Maurice, aren't you going to let me in," she held up the dish of ravioli's, "I made your favorites..." Then she noticed the tear stains on his face, the smears of blood along his cheek, "What..." her eyes dropping she spotted the bandage on his hand, which he tried to hide behind his back, but was too late, "MAURICE! What happened to you, is this why you left work, did you go to the Doctor?" Rose began to push her way in, despite his protests, "No you didn't did you, that's not the work of a nurse," exasperated and worried even more she moved forward again, "Maurice what am I going to do with you?"

"What? It's nothing Ma, just a little accident at work. I'm fine." Bosco sputtered, standing in the partially opened doorway and refusing to budge, "I don't need..."

"Nothing? Maurice Louis I know when something is nothing, and that's not nothing! Now move and let me in so I can look at it, or I'll take you to see the Doctor myself." Rose taking no guff off of him pushed the bowl into the middle of his chest and forced him backwards into the apartment. Bosco stepped backwards slightly off balance as she moved past him quickly still holding the bowl in her hands. Rose stopped in shock at the sight before her, turning to him she gave him a look of horror, "Maurice what happened here, did someone break in...honey were you robbed?" Glancing down at his hand and seeing the bloodstains now on his shirt Rose gasped again in shock and before he could speak she shoved the ravioli bowl into his hands then dug her cell phone out of her purse exclaiming, "I'm calling 911!"

Bosco quickly deposited the bowl on the endtable beside the couch and turned back to Rose. "NO! Ma, wait! We don't need the police!" he yelled, grabbing Rose's hand as she dialed. As Rose turned, pulling her hand away, Bosco stumbled, almost falling but finally recovering he sputtered, "Wait! Ma Wait, please, its not like that, just calm down!" Again reaching for the phone.

As he yanked the phone from her, Rose turned into his chest, one whiff of his breath and shirt and she was frowning hard at him, "Have you been drinking?" One more quick glance around the room and she was staring hard at him, his guilty look making her eyes narrow, another glance at the damaged door frame to his bedroom and then down at the broken coffee table and television and spotting a missed shard of the bourbon bottle's glass, she whispered in shock, "Did you do this, did you break...baby, why, why would you destroy your apartment?"

"No, Ma I didn't..." Bosco started to deny it, but knew that she wouldn't believe him. He had never been able to successfully lie to Rose. "I..." He rubbed his fingertips hard across his forehead, fighting back tears. "It's just...it's been a really shitty day, Ma." She was about to agree that it must have been for him to do this when he shouted, "A REALLY REALLY SHITTY DAY!"

Taking a step back Rose froze at his outburst, she was silent for a moment then with tears coming to her eyes she stared at her oldest son, speaking softly, "Yes Maurice it has been." Rose reached her hand out to him, "For all of us. I'm sorry, I realized today that you probably didn't remember what today was with everything that's gone on," swallowing hard, Rose lowered her hand as she saw him pull away, needing him but seeing that he was withdrawing fast, "but I guess I was wrong, you did remember didn't you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...Maybe I should go, we can do this another time." As she began to move past him, she patted his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, "You know where I am if you want to talk," pausing a moment she stiffened her back before whispering, "I love you Maurice," then moved forward to leave.

Bosco shook his head, the realization that he'd hurt Rose once again making him feel like an ass and making him more angry at the same time. "Ma...don't. Wait!" His voice sounding more gruff than he'd intended.

Rose paused in reaching for the doorknob, not looking back at him she stood waiting, tears falling as she heard the pain in his voice, and tried to ease his concern over her, "Its ok honey, its ok, I understand, you need to be alone."

Bosco stared at her back, moving towards her, then breaking his stride to walk towards the window where he seemed to be looking out but was seeing nothing as he screamed, "NO! IT'S NOT OK, MA!"

Rose flinched at his scream, turning to stare at him she saw in his face as he turned back to her the anguish written on it, reflecting what was in her own heart, shaking her head slightly as she began to break, "no, no Maurice its not, its never going to be again...my baby's gone...your brother's gone, its never going to be..."

Bosco clinched his hands into fist, pacing back and forth in front of her now, shaking his head. "You don't understand, Ma. NOBODY UNDERSTANDS!" He stopped and faced her wanting so badly for her to just see, to just know what he was going through, "It's not just Mikey, Ma. IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT MIKEY!"

Confusion flashed over her features as Rose stepped further into the room, moving towards him, "Maurice, what, what don't I understand?" Her own anger and hurt beginning to show, "That our whole lives are completely screwed up? That nothing has been the same since he was murdered, since you were shot? What don't I understand Maurice, please baby, tell me what it is that I don't understand!" She stopped as she found herself rapidly losing control here, shaking, her own hands clenched Rose understood one thing, she only wanted to find comfort from him and to give it to him and nothing was going as she'd thought it would. Instead of finding some peace with him they were instead at each other's throats...was this the way it was suppose to be? He'd been getting further and further away from her these last couple of months and she didn't know how to fix it, didn't know if she could if she did know how. "Please, Maurice, I don't want to lose you again too, I couldn't stand it," Rose whispered, "not again, not again..."

"You've already lost me, Ma." His voice a coarse whisper. "You lost me ....I lost myself....that day at Mercy. Can't you see that? I lost everything that day!" Moving closer to him, Rose felt her heart tearing at his pain, "Maurice, no sweetheart, I 'almost' lost you, and I thought when Faith came and told me what had happened to you, and that you might not make it..." she choked on her words, "that I had lost you. I wanted to die that day, I prayed for God to take me if he took you." Reaching up she took his face between her palms, his tears wetting her fingers, "How can you say I lost you, baby he answered my prayers and worked a miracle and brought you back to me."

Bosco tried to pull away, but only half-heartedly, "No, sweetheart, no, don't pull away. I want to help you but you have to let me help you, please. How did you lose yourself, Maurice talk to me..." Rose stroked his damaged cheek lightly, "you are more than 'this' Maurice..." she knew how bothered he was about the lingering scar, "you are what's in here too," placing her right palm on his chest over his heart.

Bosco did push away, but only took a slight step back. "It's not just this, Ma." He said, pointing to the scar with his bandaged hand. "I'm not the same and its a lot deeper than THIS. It's up HERE." Now pointing to his head. "My brain doesn't work right, Ma. Hasn't since the day I woke up. Sometimes I can't even remember what it is I'm supposed to be doing. I feel like my body belongs to somebody else. Simple things...things that were a part of me...I.....I can't do Ma. I can't even do my job, the only thing I was ever good at. If Faith hadn't helped me cheat at the firing range, I wouldn't have even made it back on the force. And today....TODAY I almost got someone KILLED, Ma! I'm never going to work again, Ma! So yeah, I lost Me! I lost the only thing I ever knew! I'd be better off if I had died that day, Ma and I wish I had!" Bosco lowered his eyes to the floor, tears spilling faster, "My life is over."

Rose knew he'd had some difficulties remembering things, was worried he wasn't quite right in the head, but considering what he'd been through, what they'd both been through, she'd thought nothing of it to be honest. There were days she didn't want to get out of bed, days she couldn't remember why she should get out of bed the pain of the last year was so great. But to hear him now, saying he was having so much more difficulty in everything...'Faith..cheated for him...how did he almost get someone killed?' She started to tell him, remind him that the Doctors had said it would be hard, that things would seem to be ok, then everything might fall apart again before it was indeed ok. Turning her head to look into his bedroom, her mind searching for the right words, she saw it...his gun lying on the endtable next to his bed and the beer bottles beside it. Her eyes dropping she saw his shoes next to the bed and raising her gaze she saw the blood stains on the comforter and the entrance to his bathroom. Her heart turned cold as she contemplated his words. "I'd be better off if I had died that day Ma and I wish I had!"

A small gasp escaping her, Rose grasp his face between in her palms and pulled his head up to search his eyes, "Maurice," She suddenly felt as if she were sinking. "No, Maurice, no, don't you say that, don't you dare say that you wish you were..." her voice almost lost as the shock of her sudden knowing hit her, what she desperately wanted to deny, "what did you do...baby what did you do! Were you going to..." She was unable to finish her sentence or complete the thought as it was so horrible to contemplate. But he saw she knew, saw it in her eyes and the way she froze in fear staring at him, the way she whispered his name in fear, "Maurice..."

"I'm tired, Ma," He whispered, his voice cracking, tears streaming down his cheeks, "I'm tired of living this way. I'm so tired of living, Ma."

Suddenly Rose was beside herself, to think that he wished he was dead...the inability to do his job pushed aside all she heard was he wanted to die and suddenly his injured arm and the torn up apartment made sense as the sight of the gun slammed her over and over then she grabbed him by his arm yanking hard on his sleeve, "DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT, LOOK AT ME! MAURICE DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT!" She burst out into tears throwing her arms around him, "DON'T YOU EVER SAY YOU WISH YOU WERE DEAD..." Sobbing Rose held him tightly as he stood with his arms hanging by his side, crying out to him, "Don't you ever wish you were dead...because if you die, I'll die..."

Exhaustion overtaking him finally, Bosco dropped to his knees, his head on Rose's shoulder pulling her down with him, crying. "I'm sorry, Ma, I'm sorry."

Going to the floor with him, Rose held him tightly as she also crying whispered back, "Maurice, you have nothing to be sorry for, you didn't do this to yourself baby," stroking his back as she held his head against her shoulder she kissed his temple, "you have nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me! We'll get through this baby we'll find someone to help you, I know we can."

"I....I'm sorry, Ma....I'm..." He sobbed, clinging to Rose like a child, he buried his face in her neck. "I'm scared, Ma. Please...please don't leave me, Ma. I don't want to be this way. I'm sorry."

"Maurice, I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving you," Rose lifted his head and made him look her in the eye, "Baby, I'm never leaving, don't you know that? Not if I have any say, and you don't have to be sorry, no one expects you to always be the strong one. No matter what you think you should be." Stroking his face, "I have told you so many times Maurice, Its ok if you get scared, or if you're not able to handle something on your own..." she tried to smile at him, "you have a mother you know, I can be strong for you sometimes...if you let me. Just tell me what you want me to do." Searching his haunted eyes, her heart clenched as she saw the loss and desperation there, but she only told him gently, "Don't be scared baby, I'm here with you and I'm not going away."

Bosco nodded his head once, acknowledging Rose's promise. Squeezing his eyes closed, he leaned forward, his head on Rose's shoulder, whispering, "Just hold me, Ma. Please don't let go."

"I won't baby," she hugged him tighter, 'I won't, shush, its ok Maurice, its going to be ok, I promise." Rose had no real idea how, but she knew if it took everything she had in her and everything she owned, she would not lose him like she'd lost Michael. "I promise."

The End