Chapter 20:
Light – bright, shining and warm. That was all he was able to see, when he slightly opened his eyes. It was so bright, it almost hurt. But he didn't dare to close them again. He didn't wanna fall back into the all-covering darkness he had just escaped from. He needed to stay awake, needed to keep himself busied – needed to find a way to escape the fears and nightmares of darkness.
Slowly, very slowly his eyes got used to the light and he was able to make out shapes. There was somebody in front of him or something, he couldn't clearly make that out. He just knew he wasn't alone. He looked and looked – as close as he could – to make out some more details. Whatever it was, sitting in front of him – it had blonde hair. Bright light and a figure with blonde hair? Weren't angels supposed to be blonde and have a light shining around them? He almost smiled by his silly thought – an angel. Something terrible must've happened with his brain if he really believed he was seeing an angel. All of a sudden the past events came back to his mind. The vice-squad department, the testimony, the dimly lit room, the girl, the gun... He had been shot... Shot! And now he was lying down somewhere, seeing bright lights... Sudden panic rushed over him. Was she really an angel? Was he in heaven? Was he dead?
Faith – who had arrived about an hour ago and had finally managed to talk Rose into leaving – was sitting by her partner's bedside, thinking about all the events that would come up to her and also him, when he would finally wake up. The doctor's were pretty sure he would. They had transferred him from ICU and had given him a stational single room and that, even without talking to a doctor, was a good sign. But she had and they had told her, that – at last due to all the tests they had done – his condition had bettered. They still weren't sure he would fully recover, but the testing hadn't given any hint to a permanent brain damage caused by the lack of oxygen. She knew it was no use being concerned about it, they could just wait for him to wake up and then they would know.
Right now, she was even more concerned about Rose. She really had given the medical staff a hard time for the past few days. She had barely slept or eaten anything and had staid by her son's side all the time. She had looked awful when Faith had arrived here this morning and the nurse almost desperately begged her to find a way to make her leave. The medical staff hadn't achieved that goal up to the moment and they were deeply afraid Rose would just break down sooner or later. They had tried everything from telling her she couldn't do anything for him and that she was endangering her own health, to actually trying to scare her out or force her to, but it hadn't worked. Faith had assured her everything would be alright, that she needed a rest and that if she would break down she wouldn't help Bosco at all. It had taken her almost an hour and – finally – after assuring her for the fifteenth time she would call as soon as there was the slightest change in her son's condition, she had left the hospital to go home and get some sleep.
She had a look at her partner's still form lying on the hospital bed: he was still pale, but the doctors had taken out the tube that was helping him breathe, for respiration had returned back normal that morning. The wound on his throat was covered by a bandage and he had a tube entering his nose and still giving him air, for the doctors thought the oxygen level in his blood still to low. He had a needle and a catheter stuck to the back of his right hand running to an IV- bag containing saline. She couldn't see the gunshot wound, for it was covered beneath the blanket, but she knew it was pretty nasty - she had seen one of the nurses change the bandages. But believing the doctors' words – he was nicely recovering.
She just thought about leaving the room shortly to get herself a coffee and take a little walk, when the beeping of the heart monitor suddenly got louder and faster. Something was happening, something was wrong! She felt how helplessness rushed over her as she tried to figure out what to do next. She had a look at the monitor, at her partner and finally she managed to turn around and run to the floor. She didn't even have to call for help, as the nurse who had wanted her to talk Rose into leaving earlier, already was rushing down the floor.
"Something's wrong:"
"I know, I know. I already called for a doctor."
The nurse rushed into the room and Faith entered behind her staying at the doorframe not daring to go in again. The nurse stepped to the bed, had another look at the heart monitor and then – and Faith couldn't clearly understand why – she smiled.
"It's alright – he's not in danger. He's waking up. He's just panicked a little, but things like this can happen when a patient wakes from a long phase of unconsciousness. He's alright. Maybe you should try to calm him."
All of a sudden there was movement in front of him. The angel as he believed or whatever it was instead first moved a little closer and then she was gone. If he would've managed to do it, he would've laughed. Heaven! They had realized there mistake in sending him here and now they were sending him else where. As if he truly had believed he would end up in heaven! Now he could hear something – a constant, repeating tone. A beeping. What was this? A countdown? The elevator leveling him down to hell? The beeping got faster the more he thought about it. He was afraid, afraid of what would happen next, afraid of where he would end up finally. He knew it was too late now, he couldn't do anything against it any more, but he just desperately wished for this to take another turn, to have a good ending. And then – very calm and like it was coming from far away – he heard a voice. Somebody was talking to him, but he couldn't understand it. He tried to listen closer, tried to focus and then he heard somebody announce his name.
"Bosco?"
He hesitated. He knew this voice. It was familiar, so goddamn familiar. . . Faith. It was Faith's voice he was hearing. Why was he hearing her voice? Was it some kind of memory to make it easier for him? Was she dead? That thought was unbearable... Maybe,..., maybe he wasn't,..., maybe this wasn't the end, maybe he had survived, maybe he was still alive... The voice got louder and he could hear the words more clearly now.
"Can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes. Talk to me."
His throat was dry and he had difficulties finding his voice, but he had to. He wanted to answer her, wanted to tell her, he knew she was there and wanted to have prove he actually wasn't dead. He tried to speak, but he didn't manage anything more than to choke and a slight cough. But Faith voice was still there.
"Easy, slow and easy. Don't push too hard – it's okay."
He swallowed hard and tried once again and this time he managed to whisper her name.
"Faith."
"I'm here, Bosco. I'm here. Don't worry, everything's alright."
He was relaxing now. He knew he couldn't be dead or if he was he definitely was in heaven – hell wouldn't give his new citizens such a soothing and warm welcome. But what had happened instead? And where was he?
"Where..."
"You're in hospital, you were shot. But you will get well soon."
He tried to understand what she wanted to tell him. Put together the pieces – he couldn't remember anything, didn't know how this could happen. Had no idea why he was here.
"Why...?"
Faith hesitated for a few moments and he tried to widen his eyes, so he could see her face more clearly, could see the expression on it, to find out what made her hesitate. He could see her, although it looked like she was standing in dense fog. She looked sad.
"Judy,..., she shot you."
Judy? Judy. Judy! Suddenly the unfamiliar name, had received a face. And with her face, the memory came back. The night in the bar, the accuse, the interview at vice-squad and Judy aiming at him with a gun..."
"How is she? What happened to her?"
Once again she hesitated, only this time it lasted longer. He could see the expression on her face more clearly now, her sadness had mixed with fear. She looked afraid. Afraid of what?
"She's dead..."
He gasped by her words. Dead? That's why Faith had looked feared, she didn't wanna tell him, was afraid how he would react. Why had this happened and how had it happened. He didn't even get a chance to ask her, she seemed to know what he wanted to ask her.
"She killed herself."
He couldn't understand this. What had made her feel so desperate, so sad and so unwilling to go on, that she actually killed herself. What had he done to her? Faith saw his troubled face and seemed to realize that he was blaming himself, was searching the reason for Judy's suicide in the violation. The violation that actually had never happened.
"Bos, stop blaming yourself. You're innocent, you didn't harm her. She was trying to seek revenge. She believed you were responsible for her mother's death, who commited suicide and we weren't able to keep her from doing it. Judy believed we – you - could have tried harder to safe her. Judy was sick, she had a psychological problem, some kind of a trauma due to her mother's death. Nothing of all this was your fault and noone is blaming you."
He didn't know what to say about this. It was too much information all at once and he wasn't sure he could really believe what Faith was telling him. Maybe she still tried to calm him and make him feel better. And even if it was the whole truth – he had been with Judy, had talked to her, had slept with her. You couldn't call him completely innocent – he had had some impact on her actions, you couldn't deny that. But he didn't wish to talk about this right now. There were a lot of things he had to think about, a lot of things he had to sort out and he had to do this all by himself. Faith could see his still troubled face under a pale skin and she knew he was deeply thinking about what she had just revealed. She knew she couldn't really help him through – she could just try to be there for him.
"I'm gonna call your Mom, she wanted to know when there was any change in your condition..."
He hadn't even clearly listened to her.
"Okay."
Faith gently squeezed his hand and rose from the chair and a moment later she had left to give his mother a call and he was alone with his thoughts.
Light – bright, shining and warm. That was all he was able to see, when he slightly opened his eyes. It was so bright, it almost hurt. But he didn't dare to close them again. He didn't wanna fall back into the all-covering darkness he had just escaped from. He needed to stay awake, needed to keep himself busied – needed to find a way to escape the fears and nightmares of darkness.
Slowly, very slowly his eyes got used to the light and he was able to make out shapes. There was somebody in front of him or something, he couldn't clearly make that out. He just knew he wasn't alone. He looked and looked – as close as he could – to make out some more details. Whatever it was, sitting in front of him – it had blonde hair. Bright light and a figure with blonde hair? Weren't angels supposed to be blonde and have a light shining around them? He almost smiled by his silly thought – an angel. Something terrible must've happened with his brain if he really believed he was seeing an angel. All of a sudden the past events came back to his mind. The vice-squad department, the testimony, the dimly lit room, the girl, the gun... He had been shot... Shot! And now he was lying down somewhere, seeing bright lights... Sudden panic rushed over him. Was she really an angel? Was he in heaven? Was he dead?
Faith – who had arrived about an hour ago and had finally managed to talk Rose into leaving – was sitting by her partner's bedside, thinking about all the events that would come up to her and also him, when he would finally wake up. The doctor's were pretty sure he would. They had transferred him from ICU and had given him a stational single room and that, even without talking to a doctor, was a good sign. But she had and they had told her, that – at last due to all the tests they had done – his condition had bettered. They still weren't sure he would fully recover, but the testing hadn't given any hint to a permanent brain damage caused by the lack of oxygen. She knew it was no use being concerned about it, they could just wait for him to wake up and then they would know.
Right now, she was even more concerned about Rose. She really had given the medical staff a hard time for the past few days. She had barely slept or eaten anything and had staid by her son's side all the time. She had looked awful when Faith had arrived here this morning and the nurse almost desperately begged her to find a way to make her leave. The medical staff hadn't achieved that goal up to the moment and they were deeply afraid Rose would just break down sooner or later. They had tried everything from telling her she couldn't do anything for him and that she was endangering her own health, to actually trying to scare her out or force her to, but it hadn't worked. Faith had assured her everything would be alright, that she needed a rest and that if she would break down she wouldn't help Bosco at all. It had taken her almost an hour and – finally – after assuring her for the fifteenth time she would call as soon as there was the slightest change in her son's condition, she had left the hospital to go home and get some sleep.
She had a look at her partner's still form lying on the hospital bed: he was still pale, but the doctors had taken out the tube that was helping him breathe, for respiration had returned back normal that morning. The wound on his throat was covered by a bandage and he had a tube entering his nose and still giving him air, for the doctors thought the oxygen level in his blood still to low. He had a needle and a catheter stuck to the back of his right hand running to an IV- bag containing saline. She couldn't see the gunshot wound, for it was covered beneath the blanket, but she knew it was pretty nasty - she had seen one of the nurses change the bandages. But believing the doctors' words – he was nicely recovering.
She just thought about leaving the room shortly to get herself a coffee and take a little walk, when the beeping of the heart monitor suddenly got louder and faster. Something was happening, something was wrong! She felt how helplessness rushed over her as she tried to figure out what to do next. She had a look at the monitor, at her partner and finally she managed to turn around and run to the floor. She didn't even have to call for help, as the nurse who had wanted her to talk Rose into leaving earlier, already was rushing down the floor.
"Something's wrong:"
"I know, I know. I already called for a doctor."
The nurse rushed into the room and Faith entered behind her staying at the doorframe not daring to go in again. The nurse stepped to the bed, had another look at the heart monitor and then – and Faith couldn't clearly understand why – she smiled.
"It's alright – he's not in danger. He's waking up. He's just panicked a little, but things like this can happen when a patient wakes from a long phase of unconsciousness. He's alright. Maybe you should try to calm him."
All of a sudden there was movement in front of him. The angel as he believed or whatever it was instead first moved a little closer and then she was gone. If he would've managed to do it, he would've laughed. Heaven! They had realized there mistake in sending him here and now they were sending him else where. As if he truly had believed he would end up in heaven! Now he could hear something – a constant, repeating tone. A beeping. What was this? A countdown? The elevator leveling him down to hell? The beeping got faster the more he thought about it. He was afraid, afraid of what would happen next, afraid of where he would end up finally. He knew it was too late now, he couldn't do anything against it any more, but he just desperately wished for this to take another turn, to have a good ending. And then – very calm and like it was coming from far away – he heard a voice. Somebody was talking to him, but he couldn't understand it. He tried to listen closer, tried to focus and then he heard somebody announce his name.
"Bosco?"
He hesitated. He knew this voice. It was familiar, so goddamn familiar. . . Faith. It was Faith's voice he was hearing. Why was he hearing her voice? Was it some kind of memory to make it easier for him? Was she dead? That thought was unbearable... Maybe,..., maybe he wasn't,..., maybe this wasn't the end, maybe he had survived, maybe he was still alive... The voice got louder and he could hear the words more clearly now.
"Can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes. Talk to me."
His throat was dry and he had difficulties finding his voice, but he had to. He wanted to answer her, wanted to tell her, he knew she was there and wanted to have prove he actually wasn't dead. He tried to speak, but he didn't manage anything more than to choke and a slight cough. But Faith voice was still there.
"Easy, slow and easy. Don't push too hard – it's okay."
He swallowed hard and tried once again and this time he managed to whisper her name.
"Faith."
"I'm here, Bosco. I'm here. Don't worry, everything's alright."
He was relaxing now. He knew he couldn't be dead or if he was he definitely was in heaven – hell wouldn't give his new citizens such a soothing and warm welcome. But what had happened instead? And where was he?
"Where..."
"You're in hospital, you were shot. But you will get well soon."
He tried to understand what she wanted to tell him. Put together the pieces – he couldn't remember anything, didn't know how this could happen. Had no idea why he was here.
"Why...?"
Faith hesitated for a few moments and he tried to widen his eyes, so he could see her face more clearly, could see the expression on it, to find out what made her hesitate. He could see her, although it looked like she was standing in dense fog. She looked sad.
"Judy,..., she shot you."
Judy? Judy. Judy! Suddenly the unfamiliar name, had received a face. And with her face, the memory came back. The night in the bar, the accuse, the interview at vice-squad and Judy aiming at him with a gun..."
"How is she? What happened to her?"
Once again she hesitated, only this time it lasted longer. He could see the expression on her face more clearly now, her sadness had mixed with fear. She looked afraid. Afraid of what?
"She's dead..."
He gasped by her words. Dead? That's why Faith had looked feared, she didn't wanna tell him, was afraid how he would react. Why had this happened and how had it happened. He didn't even get a chance to ask her, she seemed to know what he wanted to ask her.
"She killed herself."
He couldn't understand this. What had made her feel so desperate, so sad and so unwilling to go on, that she actually killed herself. What had he done to her? Faith saw his troubled face and seemed to realize that he was blaming himself, was searching the reason for Judy's suicide in the violation. The violation that actually had never happened.
"Bos, stop blaming yourself. You're innocent, you didn't harm her. She was trying to seek revenge. She believed you were responsible for her mother's death, who commited suicide and we weren't able to keep her from doing it. Judy believed we – you - could have tried harder to safe her. Judy was sick, she had a psychological problem, some kind of a trauma due to her mother's death. Nothing of all this was your fault and noone is blaming you."
He didn't know what to say about this. It was too much information all at once and he wasn't sure he could really believe what Faith was telling him. Maybe she still tried to calm him and make him feel better. And even if it was the whole truth – he had been with Judy, had talked to her, had slept with her. You couldn't call him completely innocent – he had had some impact on her actions, you couldn't deny that. But he didn't wish to talk about this right now. There were a lot of things he had to think about, a lot of things he had to sort out and he had to do this all by himself. Faith could see his still troubled face under a pale skin and she knew he was deeply thinking about what she had just revealed. She knew she couldn't really help him through – she could just try to be there for him.
"I'm gonna call your Mom, she wanted to know when there was any change in your condition..."
He hadn't even clearly listened to her.
"Okay."
Faith gently squeezed his hand and rose from the chair and a moment later she had left to give his mother a call and he was alone with his thoughts.