[b]Guardian Angels[/b]
[b]By:[/b] Amanda aka syko4bosco
[b]Rating:[/b] PG
[b]Disclaimer:[/b] I asked Santa. He laughed and said, "Yeah, ok, maybe
I'll have them waiting for you on that PONY you wanted too!" So, that was
pretty much my last hope. Bosco and Faith and the rest still belong to the
guys at NBC. As for Santa...I hope he chokes on a cookie.
[b]Spoilers:[/b] Milk, bread, cheese, some really old vegetables, but
nothing from Third Watch
[b]Dedication:[/b] For BoscoRush, who noticed I was gone.
[b]Authors Note:[/b] Interesting how writing desperately...writing to
write...can sometimes end up mirroring your feelings without even trying.
[i]I wrote this because I NEEDED TO.[/i]
==*==
He just wanted to be out of his head tonight.
He just wanted to forget the day and be consumed by the night.
He just wanted to escape himself--his thoughts, his conscience.
==*==
The day had started off well enough. The usual routine: wake up, eat whatever didn't have mold growing on it, dig some half-clean clothes out of the closet, and go to work.
I actually got there early too. First time in a couple of weeks, I think. Sullivan applauded me when I walked in, and I had a few choice words to throw back at him.
The shift started off normal. Faith had the day off to go to Charlie's parent-teacher conferences, so I was riding with Stevenson. Nice enough guy. Not Faith, but hey, who is?
Took two reports from a fender-bender and a hot-dog cart guy who was robbed, but other than that, things were calm, and we laid low.
It's getting warmer now, so the sun was out longer, and the sun didn't set until almost 7.
I like night, but I don't, for this reason: at night, you can be anyone, or anything. Sometimes thats good. Sometimes I like the night because it feels more comfortable. I spend a lot of my waking hours in the night time anyways. I know the night. The day time almost feels too open, too vulnerable. The shadows I'm so used to are gone during the day, but I always expect to see them anyway.
But New York at night...that's when the loonies come out. The freak shows and the creeps and the all around bad people. And that's what happened tonight.
We had fifteen minutes left on shift. Stevenson was riding shotgun and I was driving. I guess I was bored, but when I saw the bent up license plate of the car we were following, I decided to flick the sirens on. I mean, most of the letters were obscured, and it probably would have warranted a written warning at most, but I guess, in truth, I just wanted to do SOMETHING tonight besides drive up and down the streets of our sector. Stevenson got out, grabbed his notebook, and they took off.
We called in for backup, and took off after them. Luckily the roads were almost empty, it had been quiet like that all night.
Before we knew it, we were surrounded by back up units. We were at the head of the chase, I do remember that much. The rest of it is a blur. When you're flying through the city at 90 mph, not a lot sticks with you. All I know is I was watching the road and the car ahead of us and not much else. Stevenson was talking, but I don't know what he was saying. I know that I heard him give me the 'clear' at each intersection, but it was far away, and I barely registered it. You can't get distracted during a chase. Distractions can lead to death, and that we didn't need.
Suddenly the back driver's side door to the perp's car flew open, and his accomplice held it open against the wind and the speed of the car with his leg.
The next thing I remember is the horrific thud and crack the body made when it hit the RMP's windshield. Without warning, I found myself staring into the terrified glazed over eyes of a very beautiful dead girl, her face plastered to the glass, neck bent at the most awkward angle.
I lost control of the car, and ended up swerving right into the underpass of a bridge. Thank God by that time I was able to slow us down enough so that Stevenson wasn't hurt. I hit the steering wheel with my chest pretty hard, but I didn't hear any cracks, so I figure no one has to know.
M.E. reported the cause of death to be a broken neck. Broken upon impact with our RMP windshield.
In other words, if I hadn't gotten so bored tonight, that girl would be alive. They had been holding her hostage, and the ransom was about to be paid tonight. When they saw us, they panicked. She might be hugging her folks right now if it weren't for me. Instead, they have to go and arrange a funeral.
All I could see was her face, up against that glass...that look of horror forever plastered there, on her features...beautiful features that should have died beautiful, not twisted in the terrified grimace they were in.
By the time I left the station, it was morning. Around 2 I think.
We did the paperwork, although I know whatever I did probably isn't worth shit. I don't even remember doing it. All I remembered was her face. And the fact that she would be alive if it not for me.
I really wish Faith had been there. I really needed her tonight, even though I would never tell her that. But I'm happy she didn't see what I saw. She doesn't need to see things like that.
I did. I saw it. And all I wanted then was to just wanted to get out of my head.
==*==
I couldn't go to Ma's bar. Sometimes you just need to drink in silence among strangers. And it was one of those times.
Not sure how many drinks I had. Bartender cut me off eventually...I think...
Not sure what time I left the bar. Somehow I ended up with the bottle.
The dead girl's face was fading now, but it was still there. Still there...still floating in front of me, but blurry and faded...as was everything else. A world in a slow-mo tunnel. Ah, alcohol...
I stumbled to my car, and dug in my pockets for my keys. I wasn't going to drive. Just rest for awhile. Let my head clear. Turn on the heat at least...I was freezing.
Suddenly, I heard someone call my name. I remember being confused, trying to find out who it was, turning and falling, and then she grabbed me.
My Angel.
Yeah, that's right. Don't laugh. I'm not making this up. An Angel. A real Angel.
She lifted me up so gently, like I weighed nothing at all, and leaned me against my car, then she stood back to look at me.
Light radiated from around her, warm and soft. Her features were perfect, natural and beautiful. I think she is, quite possibly the most amazing, breathtaking thing I have ever laid eyes on. And I've laid eyes on a lot.
Her skin was fair, her eyes were calm but piercing. Her hair flowed onto her shoulders and the light shone through it, glinting off of the amber highlights there.
I couldn't breathe. And I knew. I knew she was an Angel.
Without saying anything, she walked over and put her warm arms around my waist, supporting me, helping me to walk.
The next thing I can remember is seeing her face shining down at me as she gently laid me down on my bed. How I got home is a mystery to me, but I know my Angel helped me get home safe.
I asked her where her wings were, and she only laughed, smile lighting up her face even more. Maybe I just couldn't see them, but all Angels have wings, right?
She slowly leaned down and kissed my forehead, whispered for me to go to sleep, and she was gone.
I know now that I would have never gotten home that night if it hadn't been for my Angel.
I had parked right against the outer wall of the bar, in the small parking lot there. During the night, a gas leak in the apartment upstairs ended up causing an explosion that demolished the entire building, as well as my car. If I had been sleeping, or passed out in it that night, like I had planned...I wouldn't be here telling you this story right now.
And I know it's all because God sent me a Guardian Angel.
========== End Part (1/2) ==========
==*==
He just wanted to be out of his head tonight.
He just wanted to forget the day and be consumed by the night.
He just wanted to escape himself--his thoughts, his conscience.
==*==
The day had started off well enough. The usual routine: wake up, eat whatever didn't have mold growing on it, dig some half-clean clothes out of the closet, and go to work.
I actually got there early too. First time in a couple of weeks, I think. Sullivan applauded me when I walked in, and I had a few choice words to throw back at him.
The shift started off normal. Faith had the day off to go to Charlie's parent-teacher conferences, so I was riding with Stevenson. Nice enough guy. Not Faith, but hey, who is?
Took two reports from a fender-bender and a hot-dog cart guy who was robbed, but other than that, things were calm, and we laid low.
It's getting warmer now, so the sun was out longer, and the sun didn't set until almost 7.
I like night, but I don't, for this reason: at night, you can be anyone, or anything. Sometimes thats good. Sometimes I like the night because it feels more comfortable. I spend a lot of my waking hours in the night time anyways. I know the night. The day time almost feels too open, too vulnerable. The shadows I'm so used to are gone during the day, but I always expect to see them anyway.
But New York at night...that's when the loonies come out. The freak shows and the creeps and the all around bad people. And that's what happened tonight.
We had fifteen minutes left on shift. Stevenson was riding shotgun and I was driving. I guess I was bored, but when I saw the bent up license plate of the car we were following, I decided to flick the sirens on. I mean, most of the letters were obscured, and it probably would have warranted a written warning at most, but I guess, in truth, I just wanted to do SOMETHING tonight besides drive up and down the streets of our sector. Stevenson got out, grabbed his notebook, and they took off.
We called in for backup, and took off after them. Luckily the roads were almost empty, it had been quiet like that all night.
Before we knew it, we were surrounded by back up units. We were at the head of the chase, I do remember that much. The rest of it is a blur. When you're flying through the city at 90 mph, not a lot sticks with you. All I know is I was watching the road and the car ahead of us and not much else. Stevenson was talking, but I don't know what he was saying. I know that I heard him give me the 'clear' at each intersection, but it was far away, and I barely registered it. You can't get distracted during a chase. Distractions can lead to death, and that we didn't need.
Suddenly the back driver's side door to the perp's car flew open, and his accomplice held it open against the wind and the speed of the car with his leg.
The next thing I remember is the horrific thud and crack the body made when it hit the RMP's windshield. Without warning, I found myself staring into the terrified glazed over eyes of a very beautiful dead girl, her face plastered to the glass, neck bent at the most awkward angle.
I lost control of the car, and ended up swerving right into the underpass of a bridge. Thank God by that time I was able to slow us down enough so that Stevenson wasn't hurt. I hit the steering wheel with my chest pretty hard, but I didn't hear any cracks, so I figure no one has to know.
M.E. reported the cause of death to be a broken neck. Broken upon impact with our RMP windshield.
In other words, if I hadn't gotten so bored tonight, that girl would be alive. They had been holding her hostage, and the ransom was about to be paid tonight. When they saw us, they panicked. She might be hugging her folks right now if it weren't for me. Instead, they have to go and arrange a funeral.
All I could see was her face, up against that glass...that look of horror forever plastered there, on her features...beautiful features that should have died beautiful, not twisted in the terrified grimace they were in.
By the time I left the station, it was morning. Around 2 I think.
We did the paperwork, although I know whatever I did probably isn't worth shit. I don't even remember doing it. All I remembered was her face. And the fact that she would be alive if it not for me.
I really wish Faith had been there. I really needed her tonight, even though I would never tell her that. But I'm happy she didn't see what I saw. She doesn't need to see things like that.
I did. I saw it. And all I wanted then was to just wanted to get out of my head.
==*==
I couldn't go to Ma's bar. Sometimes you just need to drink in silence among strangers. And it was one of those times.
Not sure how many drinks I had. Bartender cut me off eventually...I think...
Not sure what time I left the bar. Somehow I ended up with the bottle.
The dead girl's face was fading now, but it was still there. Still there...still floating in front of me, but blurry and faded...as was everything else. A world in a slow-mo tunnel. Ah, alcohol...
I stumbled to my car, and dug in my pockets for my keys. I wasn't going to drive. Just rest for awhile. Let my head clear. Turn on the heat at least...I was freezing.
Suddenly, I heard someone call my name. I remember being confused, trying to find out who it was, turning and falling, and then she grabbed me.
My Angel.
Yeah, that's right. Don't laugh. I'm not making this up. An Angel. A real Angel.
She lifted me up so gently, like I weighed nothing at all, and leaned me against my car, then she stood back to look at me.
Light radiated from around her, warm and soft. Her features were perfect, natural and beautiful. I think she is, quite possibly the most amazing, breathtaking thing I have ever laid eyes on. And I've laid eyes on a lot.
Her skin was fair, her eyes were calm but piercing. Her hair flowed onto her shoulders and the light shone through it, glinting off of the amber highlights there.
I couldn't breathe. And I knew. I knew she was an Angel.
Without saying anything, she walked over and put her warm arms around my waist, supporting me, helping me to walk.
The next thing I can remember is seeing her face shining down at me as she gently laid me down on my bed. How I got home is a mystery to me, but I know my Angel helped me get home safe.
I asked her where her wings were, and she only laughed, smile lighting up her face even more. Maybe I just couldn't see them, but all Angels have wings, right?
She slowly leaned down and kissed my forehead, whispered for me to go to sleep, and she was gone.
I know now that I would have never gotten home that night if it hadn't been for my Angel.
I had parked right against the outer wall of the bar, in the small parking lot there. During the night, a gas leak in the apartment upstairs ended up causing an explosion that demolished the entire building, as well as my car. If I had been sleeping, or passed out in it that night, like I had planned...I wouldn't be here telling you this story right now.
And I know it's all because God sent me a Guardian Angel.
========== End Part (1/2) ==========