Abyss
By: Syko4Bosco aka A. Lalad
Rating: PG-13
Category: Bosco Angst, B/Y UST
Summary: Bosco is kidnapped and witnesses a horrific act
that he can not come to terms with. As his guilt
and silence overwhelm him, he spirals downward
into a deep depression. Can Faith get to him
before it's too late?
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership, nor do I gain any type
of compensation or reward for this story. I
write for my own personal enjoyment, and share
my writing with others who may also enjoy it.
Third Watch (c) and all registered characters belong
to NBC.



Abyss
By: Syko4Bosco aka A. Lalad
(6)/?)

==*==
Angel of Mercy
8:56 pm

"You owe it to her." Sullivan's words echoed in Bosco's
head long after he had gone. "You owe it to her. You
owe it to her."

"You owe it to her." Bosco said to himself outloud, surprised
at the sound of his own voice.

He knew it was true. She had done so much for him during
the eight years they had been together. He would have been
dead long ago if it hadn't been for her. Lately he was
regretting he wasn't.

He wanted more than anything to talk to her, but he couldn't
tell her everything. If she knew...Bosco was sure that she'd
never speak to him again. If she knew what he had done...

He picked at a little hole in the sweatpants Faith had
brought him and bit his lip.

But she could never understand. HE didn't even understand.
All he knew was if Angela's little pet, Ricardo, hadn't screwed
up, Faith would be dead already.

//Thank God for that mistake.// Bosco thought, then sat
silent, shocked at his horrible selfishness, not sure if he
should regret the idea.

Thoughts like that were the reason that Faith couldn't know
and the reason she couldn't be around him. She deserved better.
The people who cared about her-those who needed her-deserved
better.

Angela had only helped Bosco to realize that Faith was in
danger all the time. Any minute she was with him she was
vulnerable. And it was his fault. His actions translated
to her consequences.

He wanted more than anything to talk to her, but knowing
that, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't
want her involved any more than she was. Hell, he didn't
want her involved at all.

He wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened
to her.

He stood up on shaky legs and walked to the bathroom.
He slipped and grabbed the sink, leaning on it heavily. His
pulse beat quickly and he turned on the water, letting it
run over his fingers and hands that were trembling. He
splashed a little up on his face.

He looked up at himself in the mirror, not recognizing the
man he saw staring back. He was pale and thin, dark circles
staining his eyes. He had a crazed look that frightened him.
A look of complete desperation and desolation.

He looked down at himself. His fingers brushed his thin
tee-shirt, and he could feel the bandages beneath it.
Although he couldn't see them, the numbers were burned into
his mind as permanently as they were carved into his chest.

4671287.

She walked over to the table, her back to him so he couldn't
see what she was doing. She picked up something and arched
her neck backward. He could see a sick smile in her eyes.

Bosco's heart beat faster and he struggled in vain against the
ropes tying him to the bed. He knew it was futile but he
couldn't help it.

She turned slowly, a large knife in her hand, and Ricardo
laughed from his seat in the corner. He shook his head
and took another swig from the bottle he was holding.

Bosco's chest was tight.

"So Officer..." she said, her voice dripping with psychotic
happiness.

"Do you think about Richie? Do you think about the man you
MURDERED?!"

He stared at her, hearing in his heart pounding in his ears.
She licked her lips. She was so high, there was no telling what
she would or could do.

She took his silence as an answer.

"Of course you wouldn't. You selfish, heartless, worthless..."
she trailed off, looking at her reflection in the blade.
"I'm going to make sure that that doesn't happen again. As long
as you live, you'll remember Richie."

She nodded to Ricardo who took another swig and casually stood,
pulling out his gun and putting it to Bosco's head.

Bosco swallowed and looked to Angela, who was swaying next to him.
She trapped him with her eyes and he stopped pulling at the
ropes for a minute, caught in her hypnotic gaze.

She got on top of him, straddling him, and ran her fingers over
his bare chest. He watched in horror as the blade came nearer,
reflecting the light from the window.

"You'll remember."

==*==
The Next Day
55 Station House
12:13 pm

Faith rubbed her eyes and grabbed another stack of papers.
She sat in the middle of a mess of papers, maps, videos
and case files...so many things that were getting her nowhere.

Sullivan, Davis, and a bunch of others were canvasing the
area where Bosco was seen the night he was found, trying to
find out where he might have come from. So far she'd had
no word of any leads.

Faith pulled the notebook she'd been writing on out from
under a pile of papers. She'd been here for 6 hours and nothing.

Flipping through pages of scrawlings and drawings, Faith
stopped when a page caught her eye.

4671287 was written once at the top of the page. What did it
mean? She felt like it was obvious, but she had been racking
her brain for days.

At first they thought it was a phone number. They called it
and were asked to place their order. They even tried it
backward and got a daycare center. But even if it was a phone
number, there were hundreds of thousands of area codes it
could be under. She didn't think it was a phone number any-
more and turned her attention to figuring out something else.

She wrote it again. And again. She slowly traced the numbers.

4671287...what could it mean?

==*==
Jackson & 5th
12:22 pm
55 Charlie

"We've been out here for hours. Are you really expecting to find
anything? For all we know, they dumped him out of a car or
something."

"Or, they held him in one of these abandoned buildings and we'll
find evidence of it." Sully pushed open the door to a run down
two story that looked like it had been left behind by it's owners
five years ago. It was bad, but of those they'd been to, it
wasn't the worst.

Davis sighed, but continued on. He wanted to help Bosco, but
this was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

==*==
55 Station House
12:24 pm

She sat staring at the numbers for what felt like forever. She
traced them over and over and over, thinking, but nothing would
come.

Frustrated, she put down the notebook and picked up another case
file.

#1739456 -- Douglas Malloy

Faith blinked. She stared at the folder, then, disbelieving
counted the numbers and counted again. 7. Just like Bosco's.

Faith jumped up, throwing the notebook and file folder to the
side. It had been under her nose all along. Something she had
seen a million times-worked with every day...

It was a case file. She knew it. She could feel it in her
heart.

Faith ran up to the records office, bursting through the
door, scaring the crap out of the young techies that worked
there.

==*==

She had it before her in minutes. She held the folder
in her hands, still shocked she had found it. She walked over
to a chair behind a file cabinet and started to read.

She read the file twice, soaking in every detail. Richard
Raycott, Jr. was your typical drug-dealer caught up in typical
drug dealer situations. All in all, 4 arrests, but his
business had proven fatal in 1994, when he was killed during
a bust. Killed by a rookie named Maurice Boscorelli.

The report briefly mentioned Raycott's girlfriend, Angela
Karas had been with him at the bust, and she was charged
with the same crimes. In addition to injuring an officer
named Learlin who had long since retired.

Faith had Angela's file moments later.

She was his junior by 4 years, and had been arrested twice
before for possesion and distribution of cocaine.
Started fights in prison, served an extra year on her
term. After Richie Raycott's death by Bosco in
1994, Angela Karas was convicted and sentanced to 7
years in prison. The extra year for reprimand brought
it to 8.

Angela Karas was released almost 2 months ago to the
date.

Faith sat there, in silence as the pieces started to
fall into place.

She was startled out of her reverie when her cell phone
rang shrilly in her pocket.

"Faith, it's Sullivan. You'd better come quick, I think
we've found it."


==*==
Burlington & 10th
1:03 pm
55 Charlie

With heavy hearts they approached one of the last houses on
the list. Tomorrow they would start searching the ones that
weren't abandoned, and after that...

823 Burlington was a run down brick giant. The windows were
broken and old tattered curtains swam like ghosts in the breeze.

They entered and looked around. It was evident that someone
had been living there recently, if they weren't still.

"Hello? This is the NYPD, is anyone home?" Sully yelled,
looking around the first floor. Davis walked up the flight
of stairs that led to the second.

After a few moments, he came back down the stairs.

His face was grave, his voice was scared. "If I tell you that
you were right, you promise not to rub it in?"

Without another word, he and Sullivan took off up the stairs.
Davis showed him to the room he had found.

A bed, with a broken headboard and bloody sheets, lay to one
side. Four knotted ropes lay on top of it.

A large pool of blood lay near the bed, and the impression of
a head in the blood was clearly visible. Beer bottles lay on the
floor, some of them broken.

A table stood opposite from the bed. Sully walked up to it,
careful not to touch anything. A bloody knife, needles and
empty bottles that once held drugs were scattered haphazardly.
There were washcloths and a basin of dirty water.

"Sul-" Davis said and he turned to see the younger cop holding
a piece of gold colored metal.

"It looks like a melted badge."

====================
END OF PART SIX (6/?)