Sorry about the mix up! I must have uploaded the wrong chapter 20!! Here's the real, COMPLETE one!

Wow...

I did it! I finished this...OMG, I can't even believe it myself...

what an amazing journey. I've learned so much about myself, the characters and you:

the readers.

I would just like to say, one last time on behalf of this story, thank you all so

much for your support and your reviews. I have never come uponsuch a great group of

people. I hope you all know how much you are appreciated.

Finally, I would like to dedicate this story to my best friend, Merlyn,

who helped me with the plot, my writing and everything in between. For

someone who has never seen the show or been obsessed with anything, she

has been phenomenal support, and this would not be half as good without her.

Lyn, this is for you. Thank you so much. You don't know how much

your friendship means to me.

~Amanda
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

(20/20)
==*==

2 Months Later
A lot has happened since that morning at the warehouse. Of course life marches

on--it would with or without us--but I think I can safely say things have been

significantly better since then. Really, it would have to be...afterall, once

you hit rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.

I don't remember much in the days directly following that morning. Most my

memories have escaped me, or confused themselves with dreams, all overcast with

that cloudy-haze of fragmented confusion.

Faith was treated for a concussion and some scrapes, and we were both treated

for shock. I thank God everyday that our hospital stays were nothing more serious.

Especially hers.

I still don't think Fred has ever heard the whole story. To this day he doesn't know how

close Faith came to death at 1013 Burlington St. but he knows what happened at the warehouse.

Faith tried to hide as much as she could from him, but she couldn't keep him from the

magazines, newspapers and television. And I know she really tried.

He hates me now, of course, even more than he used to. I didn't really think it was

possible. He seemed very sympathetic when it was only my problem. But when

Faith was dragged in...

I can understand his reaction. I would hate me too, if I were him.

Our story made national headlines: "COP KILLS KIDNAPPER TO SAVE PARTNER."

We've been on the local and national news, Katie Couric interviewed us via satellite, and

last week I got a call from Dateline NBC.

We've had news crews in our faces quite a bit in the last months, especially after

Ricardo Vallance's body was found three weeks ago by some Boy Scouts in a forest 50

miles outside of New York.

It's been hard dealing with all the hype alone. As if the event itself wasn't

traumatic enough, the reporters just didn't know how to remind me every spare second.

If I wasn't being barraged with microphones, I was watching myself being barraged

with microphones on tv or reading what I'd said to the microphones in the paper.

So all the messy details were dug out of the dirt.

Richie Raycott's files were somehow leaked to the media, and that was conveniently

plastered into a Newsweek article that seemed to use me as a prime example of how

cops are never safe from their actions.

There was an investigation into the necessity of the third shot, and for quite awhile,

we were on pins and needles wondering if I would be going to court to defend my actions.

Thank God they rendered me justifiable, because if I would have had to testify...

Well, I don't really like lying, and that's what I would have been forced to do. I

can't remember a thing after Angela's cryptic phone call. Most of the things I do know

Faith told me.

I guess I got lucky in one respect though. No one but Faith ever knew my horrible

secret. The media never got ahold of most of the information surrounding the death of

Jane Doe, so their stories are generally speculation.

I know it's been hard on Faith. She got some time off of work automatically, and took

some extra, trying to get away from it, but things follow you. I learned that the hard

way.

If anything, I know that her biggest frustration is the fact that her children are

plagued with the frightening images our news media has so accurately painted of that

morning.

They've heard how their mother was kidnapped, held, almost killed. They've heard how

I pounded those bullets into Angela's body, the last one between the eyes. Charlie's

actually asked me questions about how she died.

"Did she cry?" That one stands out in my mind most of all.

I hate knowing that I may be the sole reason those kids lost the last bit of innocence

they were hanging onto.

Faith and I have both been attending therapy together.

It'll be a cold day in Hell before I ever admit that it has been helping, but I don't

know if I could do it without her by my side. The experience effected her too,

and seeing the positive results therapy has had on Faith helped me open up to it a little.

Besides...as long as she's there, I can forget about the shrink and pretend I'm just

talking to Faith, like we always talk. Even though we've never been so serious or

emotional as we are during those sessions.

Our relationship is stronger now than it has ever been. There is no doubt in my mind

that she is my best friend, and I am hers. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her.

She sits next to me in the car now. We're stopped at a red light, and she's looking

out the window, watching some kids cross the street. They're skipping and jumping,

using the lines in the crosswalk like a hop-scotch grid. One of them stops in front of

the car and grins at us, fanning her freckles out over her face like a flesh-colored

starscape, then hops on.

Faith smiles, and a strand of her hair comes loose from behind her ear. She brushes it

away gently, then catches me staring at her. She turns and smiles back at me, looking

deep into my eyes.

It isn't awkward. I've caught her staring at me the same way. With unconditional love.

Making sure that we don't take each other for granted. There doesn't need to be a

reason. Sometimes I just need to look at her. To watch her when she doesn't realize it

and remember everything about her. To make sure that I don't forget how important she

is to me.

We've talked about my protective paranoia both in and out of therapy. We meet for coffee

at least 3 or 4 times a week, just to talk. Although I know that countless cups

of decaf will never allay my fears, she was more understanding than I'd expected her to

be.

She said she could see where I was coming from. After my mouth hit the floor, she

explained that many times she had had similar thoughts, like after we'd left Ceasar to

the 2-6er's the night he stabbed that little boy. She was afraid that if Ceasar's gang

ever found out...

Without realizing it, I jumped in and told her not to be silly, trying to convince her

that she shouldn't worry about me. She smiled. I fell into her trap.

"Bos, we have to do our job. We take risks everyday. Just becoming a cop is a risk in

itself. We all knew that going in. We can't control the criminals we deal with. To

throw your career away because you wanted to protect me..."

"I never want to see you hurt."

"And I don't want to see you hurt. But it's a dangerous world. And as much as you might

think that leaving me will protect me, it's the exact opposite. You think that Gusler

could back me up the way you could? I need you out there, with me."

So after some apologizing and begging, I got my job back--still contingent upon the

therapy of course--but this time I don't plan to make that an issue. They got me on

a desk for a month or so, but at this point, I don't care.

I stop the car and cut the engine. She turns to look at me, the same look of

understanding and love written in her eyes.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this?"

I nod, reach into the back seat, and grab the bouquet of white roses I'd gotten

earlier today.

The air is warm, and even though the ground is still cold and brown, and the trees are

barren, I can feel spring is just around the corner.

She walks around to meet me on my side of the car, and takes my hand gently as we start

to walk across the grass.

Birds flit around from tree to tree above us, getting nests ready and chirping to their

new neighbors.

I thought I would be more nervous than I am, but as we approach the grave, all I feel is

calm.

The small plaque at the head of the grave reads in plain letters,

REBECCA GERHARDT

1970 - 2003

LOVING DAUGHTER, SISTER

It is hard to know that the people who loved her have to live with the gruesome and

vague death of Rebecca, but I was so relieved that after all the time, she was finally

identified. Laid to rest the right way.

Faith is still holding my hand as I kneel and lay the roses down, gently fanning them

out over the damp grass.

We stand for a moment, in silence, just thinking about things...thinking about everything,

and then we turn to hold each other.

"At least her family found her." I whisper into her ear, and she nods against my shoulder.

She moves back and a warm breeze blows past us, pulling her hair across her face. As warm

as the air is, I still get chills. Faith is more beautiful now than ever. I can't even

imagine what my life would be like without her. I don't like to think about it.

She's my only saving grace. She's my angel. She's my faith.

She's the only one who could have pulled me from the depths of the Hell I was in. She's

the one who saved me from myself.

Sometimes it is only our skewed version of the realities around us that drag us down.

I have been to the darkest reaches of my soul and back, searching myself and my surroundings

for answers that could never be found.

I know now that I am my own worst enemy.

One of the things I don't like to admit about therapy is that it helped me to realize

that isolating myself--becoming an island, as it were--was my biggest flaw.

And it's really true. Because in Faith, and even in my other comrades, Sully, Davis...

Lieu...I've found a support system that is strong enough to catch me if I start to

fall again.

I've found strength from outside that helps me have strength inside.

I've stopped running at night, but I still can't sleep in a bed. I tried. It's just too

much to handle. Too many memories that I'd rather forget.

Of course, I don't think I'll ever stop having nightmares. Right back in that old run-down

shack of a building, tied to the bed and terrified. Who wouldn't dread going to sleep

each night, knowing that those haunting images might very well be waiting for you on the other

side?

But as terrified as I am, as nervous as I wake up after each one, sweating and out of

breath, the first image that comes to mind each time is one of immediate comfort.

I guess I lied when I said I don't remember anything about that morning at the warehouse.

Because everytime I awake from a dream like that, I can see Faith, swinging her legs up

under her, kicking Angela square in the chest, knocking her to the ground before she

even knows what hit her.

I must say it really is quite calming.

Besides, I've gotten used to the couch, and I don't mind the tv lulling me to sleep

every night. It's nice. Distracts me from all the funny creaks and the noises the

neighbors make.

Faith puts her hand on my shoulder, and breaks me from my thoughts. We stand for a

moment longer, saying one last prayer before we start to walk back.

We head to the car in silence. It's natural now to not talk much, but we always

know what's on each other's mind.

And I know that all we need is to be together, because together, we can protect each

other, body and soul.

Of all the things I have lost in the past few months, I have surely gained a deeper

understanding of life's fragility and it's importance. How many times have I heard the

words but never really understood them?

Now I know the only way to survive in this world is one day at a time, not taking for

granted the smallest things, because tomorrow will always be a mystery, and split second

decisions can change your life for eternity.
===============

END OF ABYSS

===============

God Bless you all!

With Love and Thanks,

~Amanda