That Was Me
By Adalanta
Disclaimer: See Part One.
Author's Notes: Wow! Thanks for all of the reviews! Special thanks goes out to tycarlosluva who has reviewed both parts so far! My thanks also goes out to tydavislover and Max452 for letting me know what you think. Oh, and Max452 - I hope you like this chapter.
Part Three: Bosco
That woulda been me.
Standin' tall and motionless in line with Faith and Sully and everyone else from the 55th Precinct, I stare at the oak casket in front of me and think - that woulda been me.
I'd be dead right now if not for Rudy. Poor bastard. Sure, the guy was a criminal, but he never really hurt anyone. And he didn't deserve to have his head exploded and his brains blown all over the plexiglass window behind me.
I didn't mean for him to die, I swear. I just wanted him to sit up and act like normal. I mean, c'mon - it wasn't the first time he'd ever been taken away in a squad car. I don't know why he decided to lay down on the back seat…and now I'll never know. I just…I just wanted somethin' to go my way. So, I yelled at him to sit up. He did.
And then he died - in my place.
That's the hard thing. I would never want someone to die in my place. Not that I'm just achin' to die or anythin', but if my time ever comes when I'm on duty, I sure as hell wouldn't want someone to jump in the way and take a bullet that was meant for me. I would do that for Faith - she's my partner, my best friend - but I wouldn't want her to do it for me.
Now that I think about it, I'm damn lucky to be alive. I missed death by a couple of seconds the first time. If Rudy had sat up just a few seconds later, it would have been my brains and blood smeared all over that RMP and not Rudy's. Then, when I was with Sergeant Christopher (the jag-off) waitin' to sign my disciplinary form, I came pretty close to getting shot - missed it by a few seconds again. If I'd just hesitated a few seconds more, then I could be attendin' this funeral lyin' down instead of standin' up at attention. And finally, when I was in the junkyard…
God! I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life, knowing that some maniac with a gun was hidin' behind some pile of crap, ready to blow me away without a second thought. The closest I think I've ever been to bein' that scared was when I was trapped in that room with Daniels mumblin' to me, holdin' that gun to my head. Come to think of it, that time and this one are pretty similiar. But the difference between them is simple - I knew all too well where Daniels was then…I didn't have a clue where this shooter was standin'.
Not knowin' is definitely worse.
Well, after all those close calls…I'd never admit it to Faith but the past few days have almost gotten me to believe in that mystical, whimsical thing called "luck." Not only in good luck (which, thank God, I had) but also in bad luck (in short - Rudy). And now, staring at Craig Richardson's casket, knowin' that another one just like it holds Rudy's body, I can't help but think, if not for luck…
That woulda been me.