Chapter eight

Author's note: Hey, glad you're still with me on this one! ;) I should warn you though, *nice* Fred ahead... I know, I know some of you you hate him, and I do too believe me, but I wanted this story to be realistic and that's how the man appears to be after his heart attack.

***

Faith woke up to the sound of someone calling her name. She opened her eyes and saw Sully's concerned face.

"Hey."

"Hey. I must've dozed off."

"You look like hell." he stated, handing her a cup of coffee.

"Thanks. For the coffee and the compliment." she tried to smile. "Where's Michael?"

"He took his mother down to the cafeteria. They'll be here soon."

"What time is it?" she asked.

"2:30am. You should get some real sleep, Faith."

"I will. As soon as the doctor tells me that Bosco's going to be fine."

Sully sat down next to her and rested his head on the wall behind him.

"So, how's work?" Faith asked, not really interested, but trying to keep her mind off Bosco on the operating table.

"Just the usual crap." he shrugged.

Suddenly they heard a door creak open and saw Bosco being wheeled back into the ICU. Faith immediately stood up and ran to his side, taking his cold hand in hers. "How is he?" she asked wearily.

"Well, we were able to re-suture his wound and control the bleeding." the doctor said as he took the surgical cap from his head. "We caught it in time. A few more minutes and he would have bled out. Now we're going to keep him sedated for the next 12 hours to give his body some time to heal. He won't survive another surgery if it happens again. His body just can't take any more."

"Thanks for getting him through this. Both times."

The doctor smiled. "You won't be able to see him for a while, so I'd suggest you two go home and get some rest. You can come back tomorrow."

Faith hesitated. "Okay, but..."

"Yeah, I promise. I'll call you if something happens."

"Thank you." she whispered, as she reluctantly let go of Bosco's hand and stepped aside to let them by.

"Come on, I'll drive you home." Sully said as he led her away.

***

Fred Yokas glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 4:05am. He reached out his hand searching for his wife, but the right side of his bed was empty. He yawned and slowly got up, then made his way to the living room.

Faith was standing near the table, a mug in her hand, staring out the window.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he softly asked.

"Fred?" she jumped, startled by his voice. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, it's okay." he said as he came closer and put his arms around her waist. "I told you, I slept enough in the hospital for two lifetimes." He carefully took the mug from her hands and put it on the table. "Is Bosco alright?"

"I guess so." she sighed. "No news is good news."

"Good." he replied, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Fred, it's my fault."

"No Faith, it's not. Please don't do this to yourself. There's no way you could have prevented this." He rubbed her back as she started to cry. "You can't back him up 24/7."

"I called him useless." she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "Immature and unreliable. I told him he's never been there for me..."

Fred stared at her, obviously surprised by what he'd just heard. He didn't know what to say. "Faith, I..."

"And he believed me. He was standing there and I could tell he believed he deserved every word! I knew I was hurting him, but I was too scared and... oh God Fred, what if he dies before I have a chance to apologize? How could I live with that?"

"Honey, I'm sure he'll be okay." he reassured her. "And I'm sure he already forgave you for that. God will guide him back." He took her face in his hands and kissed her again, wiping a few tears from her eyes. "Come on, let's go back to bed. The kids will be up in two hours."

"I love you, Fred." she whispered.

"I love you too."

***

Rose Boscorelli stood at the counter of her empty bar, a beer in her hand. It was four a.m., but she couldn't bring herself to leave the place.

She looked at her youngest son. He was sitting not too far from her, staring at the empty bottle on the table in front of him. "You wanna tell me what happened, Michael?" she asked.

"How much more do you need to know?" he absently replied. "I screwed up. Again. Only this time, my brother's paying for it."

Rose came closer and sat down next to him. She'd never been a strong woman. At least not strong enough to face her husband or keep her family together. But as she thought about her eldest son lying in that hospital bed she realized it was time to put her fears aside and do something.

She put a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you guys." she apologized. "Maybe if I'd paid enough attention to you growing up, you wouldn't have had to use drugs to forget your messed up life and Maurice wouldn't be in the hospital."

"You're not the one to blame, mom." he replied, still not looking at her. "You were a victim, just like we were. You've suffered enough. This isn't your fault. I guess I was... I'm just not man enough to face my problems without taking drugs."

"My poor baby..." she cried as she pulled him into a hug. "I'm your mother, I should've realized something was wrong. But I was too busy drinking myself into a stupor to notice. Will you ever forgive me?"

"He was there because of me." Mickey finally admitted, looking straight into his mother's eyes. "Because I asked him to. He could've told me to take a hike. But instead he gave me his money and met me down at the pier. I mean, he's a cop. He knew it could be dangerous, but he came anyway. How do I tell my brother how much that means to me? How?" he asked, tears sparkling in his eyes again.

"He knows." Rose whispered, still hugging her son. "We have to be strong now. He's got to know that his family's there for him. This way he can come back to us." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and stood up. "Come on, let's go get some sleep before we visit him in the hospital."

TBC...