I have accomplished something I never imagined I could accomplish. My little
brother convinced me to go see his school variety show tonight (middle school
talent show or chinese water torture...I now know to choose the water torture).

As I fought the incredible boredom and horror that accompanies a slew of robot-
like dancers and American-Idol-rejects, I noticed the back of my program was
free of print. So, I borrowed a pen, and, writing so small I fit 7 lines to an
inch, [b]I wrote this entire chapter on half of a piece of paper...4.5" x 6" ![b]

So as I struggle to decipher my miniature print, I would just like to point out
that I was suffering as I wrote this...be kind with the reviews! ;)
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
(17/?)
==*==
1:16 am

She awoke into darkness, cold and hurting. Forcing down the sheer panic that
threatened to overtake her senses, Faith forced herself to remain calm and
survey the situation carefully before she did anything.

She was on her stomach, laying on what felt like cold cement. Her hands were
tied behind her back, her head hurt like a bitch, and she could taste cloth in
her mouth.

As her eyes adjusted, she found herself laying amidst towers of boxes and crates.
A warehouse, or a store room of some sort...

Before she had time to put the pieces together, the answer appeared in her sights.
Angela Karas.

[i]But Bosco said he killed her![/i] Her panic took the opportunity to resurface,
and Faith could barely squeak as the woman squatted down to her level. The woman
who had already tried to kill Faith once before, and would have succeeded had she
not gotten the wrong person.

She was rabid looking, and Faith could see the cold gleam of a never-ending
high in her maniacal piercing eyes. She smiled, and patted Faith gently on her
head, which was throbbing mercilessly.

She let out a startling laugh, then without a word, stood, turned and walked
out.

Faith was left alone with her morbid imagination and terror.

All she could think of was Bosco.

==*==
Willton & 42nd
2:55 am

As hard as he tried, tonight Bosco couldn't force concious throught from his mind.
His feet were hitting the pavement hard and fast, his muscles screaming in pain,
but he ran on without noticing.

[i]What have I done?[/i]

The pain of regret burned in his mind. He could hear all of Faith's words in
his mind:

[i]You're going to sacrifice your entire career over a couple of therapy sessions?

I know you'll regret this...you need someone to be your common sense...

...we've been partners for almost NINE YEARS. Doesn't that count for something?

Did you think of how I would feel?[/i]

Of all the stupid things he done in life, he'd just topped them all and then some.
He'd just cut his only tether to the human world. He'd just destroyed his relationship
with the only person who understood him--who could tolerate him. He'd just thrown
any hope at retaining sanity to the wind.

Worst of all, he'd just hurt Faith.

Bosco clenched his teeth and pushed himself harder, but no matter how fast he went,
he could not outrun these thoughts. He wanted so badly to talk to her--apologize,
tell her everything...tell her what he'd done...what had happened in the last
precious moments of Jane Doe's life...but then she would just try and "help" him,
and that could never work.

If Faith knew what was bothering Bosco, she would denounce it, and try and convince
him otherwise. She could never understand the truth of the matter. She was in danger
every second she was with him. He was only a game of russian roulette to her, a deadly
game of chance.

Maybe she just wouldn't allow herself to believe it, but it was true. He could just
imagine her reaction if she found out his motive. It would probably get him in more
trouble for being so protective. He didn't want to hear it right now.

Faith wouldn't know what was good for her, wouldn't acknowledge it. She would try
to make Bosco believe it wasn't true, but he knew it was.

And he'd be damned if he'd sit around and let himself be the reason she was hurt or
killed.

Bosco ran until he coudln't breathe -- maniacal sprinting into the abyss of Manhattan
for minutes or hours, and he only stopped when the world spun and his lungs froze.
He stopped, gasping desperately for more air than he could consume.

As if waking from a dream, he became aware of his surroundings for the first time
since leaving home. That used to scare him, but he'd grown used to it now.

The street was littered with broken down, boarded up buildings. Old apartments
and factories. He stood at the intersection of an alley and the main road, a
orange tinted street lamp illuminating his vision.

Not a person in sight.

Somewhere far off, a car alarm was going off.

He walked to the curb and sat, pulling his knees up toward his chest. The ground
was cold, but Bosco didn't feel it.

More memories than he knew he remembered attacked him then, colors and shapes and
sounds a flashes of light...like an electrical storm in his head. What he had been
running from all night had caught up with him.

[i]What have I done?[/i]

His heart almost stopped when the pay phone behind him rang suddenly. Gathering
himself, Bosco walked up to it hesitantly, as if he expected it to explode. It
rang again, and again he jumped, cursing softly.

Bosco watched bewildered as his hand, with a mind of it's own, reached slowly toward
the booth and plucked the battered phone off it's perch. He held his breath as he
brought it to his ear.

"Hello?" His heart beat like tribal drums in his ears, his voice hoarse.

"Hello Officer BOSCORELLI." A sickly firmiliar voice replied. A voice from beyond
the grave.

Angela Karas.

Bosco felt his body tense up. Immediate panic seized his chest and bile rose in
his throat. His hand trembled. Wherever she was, she could see him. She was
watching him [i]right now[/i]. But that was impossible...wasn't it?

He swallowed.

"I killed you!" he mustered finally.

She laughed but ignored the comment otherwise.

"I ran into a friend of yours today. Officer Yokas, would you like to say hello?"
Bosco heard muffled yelps in the background.

"You thought that I wouldn't find out? That I would just let the whole thing go?
Foolish Maurice! You've only given me time to figure out how to perfect my style.
I'm finishing what I started--TONIGHT."

"You can't--"

"Oh, you're quite right, I want you to be there. I want you to watch her die like
I watched Richie die. You have until 3:30. I'm watching you. If you call ANYONE,
she dies faster than you can blink. Got it?"

He said nothing, but nodded dumbfounded. She continued as he had spoken his agreement.

"823 58th St. 20 minutes."

The line went dead. Bosco stood holding the phone for a minute, staring at it in
disbelief.

"I killed you..." he whispered to himself--to Angela.

Faith's image flashed in his mind, and before he knew it, Bosco was running off into the
night again, leaving the phone dangling by the cord, feeling adrenaline surge through
him like it never had before.

His feet barely touched the ground.
------------
End 17