Bosco sat on his couch hunched forward with his elbows on his knees. A very intense concentration was etched onto his face, an expression usually reserved for a hunter on the path of his prey. In this case, the object of his devout study was…

…the telephone.

It was simply sitting there, looking innocent, full of silence. The damn thing was annoying him. He had gotten back from Faith's apartment at around four in the morning, having driven aimlessly around Manhattan, venting. It was now nine o'clock and the phone hadn't rung once since he had returned. Not that he really expected it to but, did it have to mock him like that? Instead of waiting for some kind of miraculous break in his partner's case, he should have been picking up the phone to call Fred and tell him what had happened, but every time he reached over for it, his fingers barely touched the receiver before his heart turned over in his chest and he would chicken out. It wasn't a feeling he was comfortable with, but he wouldn't deny it, either. He knew he just wouldn't be able to bear the thought of Fred telling Faith's kids that their mother had been taken away and they didn't know if she would be coming back. Alive.

Breathing in deeply, he ran a hand raggedly through his hair. He was off balance, incomplete, without Faith's calming presence. Even when she wasn't physically around him, he still knew she was only a phone call away. Now she was so far out of reach he didn't know what to do with himself. They were the perfect team, her collected coolness the ideal contrast to his rash hotheadedness. Without the other, they would fall. It had happened many times before.

So, the phone. The bane of his living existence.

He had managed to contact Williams and give the Detective his home phone number whenever he got the blood work back. Not that Bosco really needed to know. He knew it was Faith's without a doubt. He wouldn't be lucky enough to actually catch the bastard who did this with DNA. No, this case would require work. He just needed a start.

Abruptly, the phone rang and he jerked, surprised, before hurriedly picking it up. "This is Bosco."

"Officer Boscorelli, this is Detective Williams." There was a brief pause as if he expected a reaction and when he didn't get one, he continued. "I've got the lab results back on the blood samples we took from the crime scene. I'm afraid it belonged to your partner." Bosco snorted, unsurprised. "But, I do have some good news. We got a match on the hair sample we picked up from the carpet." There was a rustling of papers. "Belongs to a Jeremy Parker. Formerly a mental patient at Briarwood Estates until five days ago when he was reported missing."

Bosco clenched his jaw. "What's this guy's problem?"

"Schizophrenic. Apparently, he believes that God speaks to him, tells him things that are going to happen."

"Like what things?" Bosco asked, frowning.

"Stuff about Armageddon, stuff like that. The doctor says he's willing to meet to talk about Jeremy's condition, which I think would be wise, considering his psychosis."

Bosco leaned forward, trying to keep his voice emotionless. "I've been given leave from work, Detective. I'd like to be put on this case…" He trailed off, unsure of what he would do if Williams declined. Luckily, the Detective was a pretty easy-going sort of guy.

"I've got to say that I wouldn't mind having you, Officer, but if I think your personal attachment to this case is getting in the way— "

Bosco cut him off. "Don't worry about it, Detective. I just want to get her back."

"Alright then. I'll set up a meeting for you with the Doctor. Name's John Dawson."

* * * *

"Good morning, Officer. Please, have a seat."

Bosco nodded and sat down in a worn leather chair, finding a comfortable position. He really wasn't up for these type of mental places. All sterile and silent. Especially this one, Briarwood. It was a rich establishment, but the air was cold and he didn't really feel at ease. No wonder this guy Jeremy was a mental case.

Besides, usually Faith handled this side of things. The parts that called for diplomacy and the sensitivity that everyone was always bugging him about. Well, he could be sensitive when he wanted to. He just didn't often feel like it.

Especially today.

"I'd like to get straight to the point, Doctor. I need to know everything about your patient, Jeremy Parker."

Doctor Dawson, a middle-aged man with round, shiny glasses and a balding head, nodded sagely and sat down behind his desk, looking properly forlorn for a guy whose patient had escaped and kidnapped a woman.

Faith…

"Well, Mr. Boscorelli, Jeremy's a troubled man. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia two years ago. He was transferred here from a local counselor when he started telling of his prophecies."

Bosco arched an eyebrow sarcastically. "Prophecies?"

Dawson drummed his fingers together. "Jeremy believes that God has called him to some special task. Specifically, to stop Armageddon." The doctor sighed. "He says that God needs control of the galaxy in order to stop the destruction of human kind." He paused, almost as if unsure of himself. "And Jeremy thinks he is the chosen one." Dawson opened a drawer in his desk, bringing out a micro cassette tape and handing it to Bosco. "This is a recording of one of my first conversations with Jeremy. It should give you some insight into how he thinks. I hope it helps."

* * * *

"Doctor John Dawson, January 21, 2000. Patient's name…Jeremy Parker. Now, Jeremy, we're just going to chat today, get to know each other. I want you to feel at ease and tell me anything you want to. I'm here to help."

"Alright."

"First off, Jeremy, I'd like to know why you admitted yourself. You seem to be a young man of good health. Would you like to tell me?"

"I…I don't want to hurt anyone."

"And you would if you remained on your own?"

"I'm suppose to."

"And you don't want to?"

"No."

"Who says you have to hurt anyone?"

"God. He speaks to me sometimes. Not many people listen to Him, but I do. He tells me what I need to do."

"What does he say you need to do?"

"You won't believe me. No one does."

"Jeremy, I'm here to help you. I can't do that unless you tell me everything."

"Men are destroying themselves and God is sad. He doesn't want to bring an Apocalypse but He will if I don't do something. I have to, you see, I don't want anyone to die…"

"What is it God wants you to do?"

"Capture the sun…"

TBC

* * * *

Hehehehehe, nice cliffhanger, ne? *laughs and ducks the various sharp objects thrown her way* This actually wasn't the original ending I had in mind, but I decided the rest would serve as the beginning to the next chapter. Sorry no Faith in this installment, but you'll see her next time and learn more about Jeremy's plans.

Hope this kept you interested!

Berry