Title: Watching You (2/?)
Author: Kate Anderson
Email: sam_loves_jack@yahoo.ca
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. As much as I wish they were, they belong to Edward Allen Bernero, John Wells and some other fine folks. I'm just borrowing them for a while!
Rating: PG-13
Content Warnings: character death
Spoilers: Up through current season four, but Bosco isn't working anti-crime in this world!
Summary: What happens after we die?
Author's Notes: Thanks everyone for the feedback :) Not sure where I'm going with this, I'm just writing whatever comes to mind!

"Faith?"

Yeah Bos, I'm here.

"Oh God Faith, why did I ever say I would do this?" Bosco asks as he tucked in his uniform shirt. "I can't go to Charlie's class and talk about what it means to be a police officer."

Yes you can Bosco. You can and you will.

"I'm not sure I even remember why anymore. Did I ever want to help people? I just want to hurt them all now Faith. Hurt them, kill them for what they did to you."

Bosco turns around and looks at himself in the mirror. He runs a hand over his clean shaven face, a special effort made for Charlie I'm sure. "How did my life get so fucked up Faith?" he whispers, still gazing at himself.

It's not fucked up Bos. Just wait and see, things will straighten themselves out. The universe has a habit of aligning itself.

"I miss you Faith." he whispers. His eyes are empty. He's nothing but a shell of his former self, searching for answers. Answers to questions which have no answers.

I want to help him. Reach out and touch him, let him know that he's not alone. I'm still here, with him. Watching him.

He runs a hand over his shorn hair and sighs heavily. "I'm only doing this for your son Faith." he says and stands up straight. He looks handsome in the uniform, if you ignore the dark smudges under his eyes. The wrinkles on his forehead that I don't remember him having before I died.

I follow Bosco as he leaves his apartment and gets into his Mustang. His baby. We go to Charlie's school, where Bosco parks the car and then sits there. Staring at himself in the rearview mirror. As though he's hypnotised.

"Can't do this..." he mutters.

Get on with it Bosco. Waiting around isn't going to help. Besides, you're already late. Bosco glances at his watch. An expensive watch, bought with the money that he claims he never has. "Shit," he mumbles. "Late already."

He hops out of the car and slowly makes his way across the parking lot and up the steps that lead to the big entrance doors. "Can't do this." he mutters to himself the entire way. Several children gaze up at Bosco as he makes his way down the hallways of the school. Looks of wonder, and awe. And fear.

If Bosco notices the fear, he doesn't show it. He slowly approaches the door to Charlie's classroom and knocks on it. Tentatively. He waits a moment and the knocks again. This time louder.

Charlie's teacher, I think her name is Mrs Morgan opens the door and greets Bosco with a smile. "You must be Officer Boscorelli!" she exclaims and looks him over. "Charlie said that you'd be coming."

Bosco dutifully extends a hand and the teacher takes it. As she shakes it, she gazes at Bosco. I remember meeting her husband once, a dirty man with a smoker's cough. No wonder she's looking at Bosco as though she was appraising a piece of meat in the supermarket.

"Bosco!" Charlie appears at the door, peering around the large form of his teacher.

"Hey Charlie," Bosco says and offers my son a small smile.

"I didn't think you were going to come." Charlie says sadly.

Bosco glances at his watch. "Sorry kiddo, got held up in traffic. I said I'd be here, didn't I?"

Charlie nods and reaches for Bosco's hand. "Can I do my presentation now?" he asks, looking up at Mrs Morgan. Mrs Morgan nods, the bun on her head bouncing gleefully.

She steps to the front of the classroom. Facing the rows of desks with confused looking children in them. "Class, I'd like you to please put away your books and turn your attention to the front of the room. Charlie is going to do his presentation now."

There's a hum of voices as books are slid into the desks and pencils are tossed onto the floor. Or in some cases at the girl sitting in front of the boy.

Charlie stands at the front, his chest puffed out. Bosco stands beside him, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Okay," Charlie says, his voice loud and clear. "When I grow up, I want to be a cop. My mom was a cop, but she was shot a couple months ago." He pauses, unsure of what to say next.

Say that I died sweetie. You need to say it.

"My mom didn't make it." Charlie says finally. "So when I'm old enough, I want to join the police and fight the guys that shot my mom."

"That's very commendable Charlie." says Mrs Morgan from her perch on a stool.

Bosco twitches nervously. He tries to avoid the stares of Charlie's classmates. Charlie gestures towards Bosco. "This is Bosco, he was my mom's partner."

Bosco half waves his hand and nods his head. "Hi." he says.

"Um, I guess Bosco will talk about being a cop." Charlie says and frowns a bit.

"Thank you Charlie," Mrs Morgan says, "Take a seat, please so that Officer Boscorelli can talk."

Charlie returns to his desk and gazes expectantly at Bosco. Him and thirty other small faces. Bosco clears his throat and tugs on his tie. "Good morning." he says. His voice quivers at bit.

"My name is Officer Boscorelli and I'm with the 55th precinct. Does anyone know where that is?"

Most of the kids shake their head, so Bosco supplies the answer. Then he continues, "Um well, I guess being a cop was a natural course of action for me. I wanted to help people, and I wanted some excitement in my life. So I joined the New York Police Department."

One child raises a skinny arm. Bosco, who looks relieved to have a question says, "Yes?"

"Charlie said that you were his mom's partner, why didn't you save her?"

Bosco looks stricken. Much as he did that day in the emergency room when Charlie asked him the very same question. "You don't have to answer that." Mrs Morgan says. She then looks towards the child. "Jeremy, that was a very insensitive question!"

The kid shrugs. "But I want to know. On all the shows I've seen, partners save each other!"

"It's alright." Bosco says. He kicks a piece of chalk that's fallen on the floor. "When Charlie's mom was shot, I didn't know what to do. I've seen people get shot before, but never my partner. I called for help and help came. But it was too late."

Charlie sits at his desk. He's staring out the window, rather than at Bosco. His eyes are filling with tears and I watch helplessly as they spill out and down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't save her." Bosco says. "The truth is, I tried to hurt the man that killed her rather than help her."

Mrs Morgan stands up. "Okay, I think that will suffice Officer. Charlie, do you want to go to the washroom?"

Charlie nods mutely and runs from the room. Tears coursing down his cheeks. "Sorry." Bosco mumbles. "I didn't mean to make him cry."

Mrs Morgan claps her hands and looks at her class. "Take out your math books." she says. "We're doing fractions today."

Bosco leaves the classroom and walks down the hallway. His footsteps echo off the walls. He walks until he finds a washroom marked as the boys. He pushes the door open and steps inside. "Charlie?"

"Go away." Charlie sniffles a bit and tries to yell at him.

"Charlie, I'm sorry." Bosco says. His bites his bottom lip, waiting for a reply.

"I said go away!" Charlie yells. "I don't want to see you, ever again!"

"Come on Charlie," Bosco says, his voice quiet. "I miss her too."

"No, you don't." Charlie replies. "You don't even care. You didn't try to help her!"

Bosco slumps against the counter as though he's been punched in the gut. "I do care Charlie." he whispers. "I care very much."

A lock clicks on one of the stalls and Charlie walks out. His nose is red and his eyes are swollen. "Emily said that you didn't try to help," Charlie says. "I didn't believe her."

"Charlie, I'm so sorry."

"I hate you." Charlie says calmly.

"If I could bring her back, I would!" Bosco cries out. His voice is filled with anguish. I see his eyes are bright with unshed tears.

Charlie shakes his head and blows his nose on a piece of toilet paper. "I don't want to see you again." he says and then stuffing the toilet paper into his pocket, he turns and leaves.

Bosco watches as the door closes. He doesn't move, just leans against the counter. "Oh God," he breathes.

I'm so sorry Bosco. Sorry that Charlie said those things. Sorry that I was stupid enough to get myself shot.

"You gotta help me Faith." Bosco pleads.

I try to touch him. Try to lay my hand on his face. As I reach out to touch him, Bosco pulls back as though he's been burned.

"What the...?"

It was me Bos. I'm here.

Bosco touches his face, rubs the spot where I touched him. "Now I'm feelin' things." he mutters. "I'm a whack job. Need to be locked up."

A loud bell rings, signalling the end of classes for recess. Loud voices fill the hallway outside the door and one child pushes it open. He looks up at Bosco with surprise. "Sorry." he mumbles and runs out of the room.

Bosco laughs softly. Not out of humour. But out of self pity. "The kids are scared of me Faith."

Not you Bosco. They're scared of the uniform.

"They think I'm gonna arrest them cause they want to take a piss."

Another child pushes open the door. "Whoa cool." he says, looking at Bosco. "We got police in the bathrooms now?"

"Yeah," Bosco mutters. "Apparently everyone tryin' to take a leak is in grave danger."

Bosco pushes open and leaves the washroom. He walks down the hallway, ignoring the stares of the children. Walks to his Mustang and pulls open the door. "Never again Faith," he whispers as he sits in the seat. "I'm never seein' Charlie again."