Title: The Rules of the Game (11/?)
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Only in my dreams do I actually own anything. All are property of Edward Allen Bernero and John Wells.
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence and sexual content
Spoilers: Up through and including "233 Days."
Summary: Bosco and Faith find themselves in a predicament in which they can use only their instincts to survive.
Distribution: My site Only Time, 55-HQ, and fanfiction.net. Others, just ask and I'll probably say yes.
Category: Story
Subcategories: Action/adventure/thriller/suspense/romance/friendship/drama/angst...does that narrow it down too much? *wink wink*
Feedback: Makes me write faster.
Author's Note: I sort of got this idea from a third season episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But just for the very general plot idea. The rest came out of my own messed up mind. :)
Author's Note II: This part is rated R just because...well...it's still a bit more graphic than PG-13 stuff, and the language gets a bit offensive...what can I say? Bosco has a potty mouth ;)
Dedication: For Dem and Bree
The Rules of the Game (Part Eleven)
Faith hung limply from the rope, nearing exhaustion. She didn't know how long she'd been down in the basement, but it felt like hours. She watched wearily as Larry stood in front of her, glaring at her with hatred and blocking her view of Bosco. He still held the thin leather whip in his hands, though he had ceased using it on her after the ninth lash. She idly wondered what form of torture he had planned for her next.
Every inch of her body ached--her arms, her legs, her stomach and ribs and her back. She wasn't sure she'd ever been in so much pain. But despite all his attempts, she hadn't given into the pain. She hadn't screamed.
It was a small victory on her part to deny him that satisfaction.
Not to mention that hearing her scream would only increase the despair she saw in Bosco's eyes. At first there had only been pure, unadulterated rage in his blue eyes. When she saw that rage any other time it made her nervous--not that Bosco would hurt her because she knew without a doubt he wouldn't--but it made her nervous because he usually got that look right before he did something that would either end in a reprimand or a hospital visit on his part. Seeing that rage in his eyes this time had given her the strength to endure the pain that Larry was inflicting on her.
But after awhile, the rage had slowly given way to sorrow, to fear and despair. And guilt. She knew he felt guilty for not being able to stop Larry from hurting her. But she wasn't used to seeing that combination of emotions in his eyes and it both alarmed and set off a distant feeling of despair in her that she wrestled to keep at bay. She wished desperately that his rage would return, that seeing his anger would refuel the adrenaline in her and squash that despair all together.
Larry was still glaring at her, but then a small smile curled onto his lips.
Faith felt an impending sense of dread take hold of her. Despite her will to stay strong, she knew her body couldn't take much more.
"You're a tough bitch," he said, moving a step closer to her. "But even tough bitches can be broken. And there's one way that never fails." His grin widened, his eyes hard, cold. Not human. "The oldest punishment known to man."
Icy cold tendrils of fear wrapped around her spine.
Larry reached out and unfastened the button on her jeans. "Don't worry. I won't tear you up. Much," he said with a laugh, his breath hot in her ear.
"This was a good idea," Sully said softly to Tatiana as they walked into St. James Cathedral with Davis and Steve Gusler behind them.
She smiled at him as they walked toward one of the pews.
"Hey."
They all looked over and saw Alex standing a few feet away. Just past her were Doc, Carlos and Jimmy.
"Guess we all had the same thought," Davis remarked, reaching out and taking her hand.
"It was actually Kim's idea," Doc said, his voice low.
"Where is Kim?" Sully asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
"She went to light a candle," Carlos informed them, looking somewhat uncomfortable.
They were all silent for a moment.
"John, let's sit down," Tatiana said softly.
He nodded and sat beside her on the nearest empty pew. The others all did the same, Davis taking the space on his other side.
Sully watched as his wife folded her hands together, resting her forehead on them as she closed her eyes, her lips moving in silent prayer. He closed his eyes and did the same.
Fear shot through Bosco as he watched Larry unzip the zipper on Faith's jeans. He knew without a doubt what the bastard was planning to do next.
He had to stop him somehow. He had to.
Coverting his fear into anger, he glared at the man with more hatred than he'd realized he was capable of possessing.
"Hey, you motherfucker! Does it make you feel good to hurt girls? Make you feel like a man?" he demanded.
Larry didn't respond, but Bosco didn't let that stop him. "You're not a man. You're a pussy boy. The only reason you're hurting her is because you're too much of a fucking wuss to face me! Why don't you grow a pair, then come over here and act like a real man?"
Larry turned and shot him a glare, momentarily forgetting about Faith.
"What's the matter, sissy boy?" Bosco taunted. "Your mom not pay enough attention to you when you were a kid? Or did she pay too much attention to you?"
"Shut up!"
"You're nothing but a pansy-ass mama's boy!"
Larry's eyes darkened and he took a menacing step toward Bosco.
That's right. Focus your attention on me, you sick fuck, he thought. "Does she still hold your hand when you go to the potty? She wipe your ass for you, too?"
"I said shut your mouth!" Larry shouted, grabbing a gun from the bag on the table and aiming it at him.
Kim knelt down on her knees at the front of the cathedral after she lit three candles: one for Faith, one for Bosco, and one for Bobby. Always one for him.
She took a deep breath. "Bobby," she whispered, her heart aching at the sound of his name on her lips. "Bobby, I know that you can hear me and I really need your help. Two of our friends are missing and they're in a lot of danger."
She swallowed hard, closing her eyes and picturing his face in her mind. His warm eyes, his gentle smile. All in such vivid detail that she could almost feel his presence, as though he was standing right beside her.
"Please watch over them," she said softly. "Please bring them back home to their families and friends safely."
Kim felt tears form beneath her eyelashes. "I miss you so much, Bobby. I can't lose anyone else." She swallowed hard again. "Please take care of them. I love you," she whispered.
She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and she opened her eyes, expecting to see Alex or Doc standing behind her. But when she looked over her shoulder, she realized there was no one there.
Her eyes widened slightly as she saw all of her friends sitting near the back of the cathedral. She closed her eyes again, a gentle smile on her lips as a sense of peace came over her.
Faith and Bosco were going to be okay.
She knew it with absolute certainty.
Faith stared in horror as Larry pointed the gun at Bosco's head, walking closer to him. She looked up at the rope binding her wrists. She struggled, praying for a miracle.
Suddenly the knot in the rope loosened, as if some unseen hands had untied it.
Her eyes widened as she pulled her hands free, dropping to the ground and landing on her feet without a sound. Pain shot up her injured ankle, the jolt echoing pain throughout her body but she ignored it, reached out and wrapped her hands around the metal branding iron and then crept up behind Larry silently.
Bosco glared at Larry as the man walked toward him, gripping the gun tightly.
"What? You've got nothing to say now, shortie?" Larry asked with a sneer.
Bosco saw movement from behind the other man. He couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. "Actually, I do."
"Oh, yeah? What's that?"
"You might want to take something for that headache."
"What heada--"
Before Larry could finish his question, Faith brought the heavy branding iron crashing down over his head. His gun clattered to the floor a few feet away as he fell down to the ground.
"That headache," Bosco replied sardonically.
Larry started to sit up, glaring hatefully at Faith. "I don't know how you got loose, bitch, but you're gonna be sorry!"
She slammed the rod against his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Actually, you're the one who's gonna be sorry," she informed him, her voice raspy. She knelt down and picked the gun off the floor, rising slowly to her feet again as she pointed it at him. "You chose the wrong woman to fuck with."
Bosco stared at her--not in surprise, but amazement that she was even able to stand.
"Unlock him," she commanded Larry, nodding her head toward Bosco.
"Screw you."
Faith aimed the gun at his groin. "Shooting you there probably wouldn't kill you, but I bet it would hurt like hell. Shall I test that theory?"
"You're a girl. You probably don't even know how to shoot a gun, let alone be able to hit your target."
She smiled faintly, but it was a smile devoid of humor. "You'd be surprised what they teach a girl at the New York City Police Academy."
Larry stared up at her. "You're a--"
"Police officer? Yeah. And so is he. Now get your ass off the floor and unlock him before I decide to see if I can hit the world's tiniest target!" Faith snapped, losing patience with him.
Bosco couldn't help but grin and feel proud.
Larry started to stand up.
"You try anything, and I won't hestiate to shoot you," she warned, cocking the gun.
He pulled some keys out of his pocket, a scowl on his face as he reached out and unlocked the shackles around Bosco's wrists.
Bosco grabbed him the instant he was free and slammed him up against the wall, all the helplessness he'd been feeling for what seemed like hours as Larry hurt his partner turning into rage again. "Don't worry. The pain won't last long. But please, feel free to scream all you want!"
Bosco punched him in the face; once, twice. Then he grabbed him and shoved him hard, knocking him to the floor. He kicked him in the ribs, watching Larry's face contort in pain.
"Stop," he croaked, trying to shield his stomach from the blows.
"What? You can deal it out, but you can't take it?" Bosco kicked him again, harder this time, feeling angrier by the second. "You're a lowlife, fucking piece of trash!"
Larry tried to roll away, but Bosco tackled him, slamming his fists against the bastard's face, his chest, bloodying his nose, his mouth.
"Did you think you could just hurt her and get by with it?" he demanded furiously. "Maybe I should go heat up that branding iron and show you what if feels like, you son of a bitch!"
"You're crazy!" Larry choked out.
"Yeah? Well, you're a fucking psychopath!" He punched him in the face again.
"Please stop!"
He paused. "You think I should show you some mercy?"
Larry stared up at him silently.
Bosco leaned down, glaring at her more intensely. "I don't recall you showing Faith any mercy when you were torturing her!" he growled. He wrapped his hands around the guy's throat, squeezing hard. "And I don't even need any tools to cause you pain!"
He started to choke, reaching up to try and pull Bosco's hands away, but finding himself unable to do so. His face began to turn red from lack of oxygen.
"That's enough." Her voice was quiet, but firm.
Bosco let go of his throat, glaring down at him as he sucked in air. "You're lucky she's a good person. Because if I had my way, I'd put you six feet under without a second thought, you rotten bastard!" he spat. He hauled Larry to his feet, shoving him back against the wall. He snapped the shackles around Larry's wrists, then thought to search him for another set of keys or more weapons.
When he didn't find anything, he started to step away, then stopped, a smirk on his face. "You know what they do to guys like you in prison?"
Larry didn't answer.
"When they lock you up, I'm gonna make sure that your cellmate knows exactly what you do. I'm sure he'll have some nice welcoming presents for you."
Without another word, Bosco turned around and looked at Faith, who was still clutching the gun tightly in her hands. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy. It suddenly occurred to him that she was probably going into shock. His anger faded and worry took its place.
Bosco moved toward her, gently took the gun from her hands and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. "Let's get out of here, all right?"
She nodded wordlessly.
He guided her toward the stairs. She was limping painfully. "You think you can make it?"
"I think so."
"All right, just lean on me, okay?"
Faith didn't argue. She leaned against him as he carefully slid an arm around her waist to support her as they slowly ascended the steps.
When the finally reached the top, Bosco turned the doorknob and swung the door open, pulling the gun out with his free hand, just in case. He moved away from Faith, scanning the room for signs of anyone else who might be there. Satisfied that there was no one else, he tucked the weapon away again and helped his partner out to the main room. He shut the door behind them, flicking the deadbolt that he was relieved to see there. Not that Larry had much of a chance of escaping the shackles, but the extra security was nice to have.
Bosco took a moment to look around the room. The floor was wooden and there was no furniture in sight. A huge bearskin rug was spread out in front of the fireplace. The walls were adorned with deer heads, stuffed pheasants, and directly above the fireplace hung a giant moose head. Personally he'd never understood the appeal of hanging dead animals on the wall, but then again, he'd never really been into hunting as a sport, either.
He shook his head, his gaze drifting down the narrow hallway to their left, then to the archway of another room to their right. "Wait here. I'm gonna check out the rest of this place, make sure it's safe."
Faith simply nodded.
They sat together on the bear skin rug, eating the can of green beans Bosco had found in the kitchen. They weren't half bad since he'd also found a pan to cook them in over the fire he'd built over the fireplace.
Faith could feel him watching her, could sense his worry as he let her eat the last of the beans. She turned her head and met his gaze. "I'm okay, Boz." She was glad to hear that her voice was steady and calm.
Bosco nodded, though she knew he didn't believe her. He reached behind him where he'd set the first aid kit he'd found in the bathroom. "Why don't you let me, uh..." His voice trailed off as he removed an ace bandage, some bandaids, and a tube of antibiotic cream. Then he looked at her, silently waiting for her permission.
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly.
He gave her a small smile and scooted closer to her. He unwound the ace bandage and then wrapped it around her ankle, pinning it closed. "Should help keep the swelling down," he told her. He squeezed the tube of antibiotic cream, then gently dabbed it onto the cut above her right eye. He covered it with a bandaid and paused, his hand lingering on her cheek.
Faith closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. She leaned her forehead against his, tears forming behind her eyelids. One escaped her eyelashes and slid down her face. She felt him press his lips against her cheek, his hand gently cradling the back of her head.
"Let me see your back," he whispered.
"No." She shook her head, opened her eyes.
"I don't need you to protect me, Faith."
Their eyes met.
"You always take care of everyone else. Let me take care of you for once." Bosco looked at her with pleading eyes.
"Okay," she agreed softly, another tear dripping down her cheek.
He gently brushed it away with his thumb. "Lie down on your stomach."
Faith winced as she stretched out on the rug, turning her head to the side as she rested it on her arms.
Bosco swallowed hard as he stared down at her back. The branded 'L' was just below her right shoulder blade, the skin blistered and raw. Then there were the whip marks--bright red stripes across her back in every direction.
Tears formed in his eyes. "That bastard," he whispered. He reached for the antibiotic cream, squeezed some out of the tube and as gently as he could, dabbed some onto her wounds, flinching when she did. "Sorry, Faith," he said quietly.
"Hey, Boz?" Her voice was soft.
"Yeah?"
"What do we do now?"
He paused, then stretched out on the rug next to her, lying on his side facing her. "I think we'll be okay here for the night. Maybe try to get some sleep, figure out what to do in the morning."
Faith gazed at him, turning so she was lying on her side, as well. She just nodded.
He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned closer, brushing his lips against hers. She returned the slight pressure for a moment, then he broke away and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, exhaustion finally taking over.
"Get some sleep, Faith," Bosco whispered, moving closer to her. She rested her head against his chest and he draped his arm around her, careful not to brush against any of her wounds. He pressed another kiss to her forehead and shut his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.