"You can go on home if you want, I mean, hell, we're not even
supposed to be here," Sully told his partner, glancing to him often as he
drove, keeping most of his attention on the road ahead, and part of it on
scanning the streets for Bosco.
Davis was resistant. "No thanks. I feel better knowing I'm helping, you know?"
"What about your mom?"
Davis glanced his way, and instead of making a big deal of the subject, replied, "I rang her, told her not to wait up. I didn't tell her what was goin' on though."
Sully nodded his understanding, pulling into a space at the side of the road, and stepping out, saying, "I'll just be a minute."
Davis didn't say anything, and Sully closed the door behind him, striding the short distance to Mahoney, a young kid who often hung around with rough people.
The teenager spotted the police officer, and was immediately paranoid. "What did I do now? Who you been speakin' to, huh?"
"Calm down," Sully told him sternly, holding up a hand, trying not to look too intimidating, "I need to ask you if you know a guy called Wayne Thomson."
Mahoney furrowed his brow and turned his head slightly in confusion. "Why?"
"Do you know him or not?"
"Hey, I don't handle relations, you know? You gotta speak to my man, Spike, he handles communications with people like Thoms-"
"Spike just died, Mahoney," Sully cut in, seeing the stunned expression on the kid's face.
"Was it Thomson?"
"We think so. We guess he saw Spike speaking to one of our officers."
"Then your officer better watch his ass, you know what I'm sayin'?"
Sully wasn't in the mood for this crap, and glanced around to see what Davis was doing, finding the rookie seated contently in the car at the curb. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Mahoney. We haven't seen the officer in almost four hours. Thought you might have seen something... he's about five-eleven, dark hair, moody, you seen him? Name's Boscorelli."
"That guy? Spike knew that guy," Mahoney said quietly, shaking his head. "I ain't seen him in over a week, Sully, man, you know I wouldn't lie to you. You can always tell when I'm lyin'."
"Yeah I can, Mahoney."
Mahoney and Sully stared at each other for a while, before the latter gave a sigh, and nodded. "Alright, Mahoney, keep yourself outta trouble, okay?"
"You know me, Sully."
Just as Sully was about to climb back in the car, the door open, and one leg inside already, Mahoney called to him, "Hey, you better find your friend fast, man, Thomson's one crazy guy. He finds him, he don't stand a chance."
Sully hovered half-in-half-out of the car for a few seconds before sliding all the way in and slamming the door, starting up the engine without looking anywhere besides the road ahead.
* * *
Bosco was busy tugging at the cuff and the radiator, kicking it often, when the door opened, and in walked a familiar figure, dark coat drawn around his scrawny frame, baseball cap pulled down low so that the peak cast a shadow down most of his face.
Bosco looked up at him, and felt all the anger and rage from the past few hours coalesce suddenly, and he gave one giant tug on the cuff, feeling it ache around his wrist from all the times he had tried previously.
Wayne laughed, quietly, manically.
Bosco sat still for a minute, watching the random movements of the guy across the room, seeing his feet shuffle, his eyes dart around. He was a mess.
"Wayne, you don't wanna do this," Bosco tried quietly, trying to keep calm. It wouldn't do him any good to lose his temper now. He needed to get through to this guy, talk with him, convince him that his actions were only making things worse.
Wayne nodded quickly. "Yes, I do."
"You so sure about that? You say you don't wanna go to jail, but... my god," Bosco stared at the disgruntled poor excuse for a man, and continued, "you really are insane."
Bad idea, he thought as a bullet tore into the wall about two feet from him, causing him to start suddenly with the force that ripped into the material. He glanced to the hole, and then up at Wayne, who had already lost interest in what he had just done, and was pacing randomly about the room, walking this way and that, mumbling to himself.
Bosco turned his head from staring at the radiator when he heard a familiar crackle, followed by a muffled voice.
Wayne looked over at Bosco as though he had done something out of turn, and then pulled back one flap of his coat, glancing half-heartedly at the piece of police equipment that stuck out of his pocket.
"Wayne, we can end this before it gets outta hand," Bosco told him, standing as much as he could manage, the radiator being too low to allow him to rise to his full height. "Just hand me the radio, and we can finish this."
Wayne snapped, and raised his voice, saying, "This isn't over yet, and you know it! They won't let me go after what I've done... but..." his voice quietened suddenly, and Bosco furrowed his brow.
Wayne continued, "But I don't remember... it's all so messy." He tapped his head and laughed to himself, turning away from Bosco.
Sighing, and realising just how far this guy had gone over the edge, Bosco spoke to him again, "I know what you did... I remember, Wayne."
The figure turned back to him, and the eyes narrowed. "I don't."
Bosco was quiet for a while, before he was unable to keep it locked in anymore. He clearly remembered seeing Wayne pull that trigger hours ago, hearing the explosion from the barrel, watching it hit Faith. It was too hard to control it anymore. "Well how about I refresh your memory, Wayne, huh? You took a friend of mine hostage, and then shot my partner!"
He heard the rattle of the cuff on the radiator, but ignored it, balling his fist angrily. "You're lucky you're a bad shot, Wayne. If you'd have killed her... I swear you wouldn't live to regret it." His words came out a growl, and he locked eyes with the young man.
Wayne closed in on him, staring right into him. "She didn't die?" He smiled, bit his lip. "I remember her now. I missed?"
Bosco grabbed for him instantly, but he moved back too quickly, and he missed. Wayne laughed insanely, reaching his hands into his pockets distractedly, seemingly not realising what he was doing. His hand came back out, his fist balled around something. Mumbling to himself, he pulled off his coat.
Bosco watched the movements, shaking his head. "My god, what's wrong with you?" he muttered under his breath. Wayne didn't hear... or he ignored him, either way, he threw his coat on the floor in the corner and stared at it, as if waiting for it to move. What was he doing?
"Wayne, listen to me," Bosco attempted, "whatever's goin' through your head, we can get you help."
"I don't need any help from anyone, least of all you," Wayne hissed, turning back on Bosco with wide eyes that stunned the police officer a little, even frightened him somewhat.
The distance between them closed in rapidly as Wayne spoke, "I know what you people are like. You don't care what I'm really like, you just wanna lock me away forever, never let me out again... I know."
Bosco shook his head in disbelief. This guy had no idea what he was really doing. Spike hadn't been exaggerating... Wayne had completely lost it, and he was freaking out.
Wayne's hand latched onto the front of Bosco's uniform and pushed him back with force, the cold eyes staring, the fingers curled so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He was shaking again.
Bosco tried to get Wayne's hand off of him, but failed. Wayne was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked at first glance. Bosco made a mental note to never judge strength by the way the person looked again after today.
"Just let me go, Wayne, and..."
"And what? You can arrest me? No way," Wayne said, letting go slowly, releasing the front of the uniform gradually, and shrinking away. "I'm not going to jail."
He turned his back on Bosco again, giving the officer time to let out a slow breath of relief after the sudden outburst from Wayne. For one minute he had thought Wayne was going to strangle him.
There was that laugh again, and words that Bosco was unable to pick out.
Suddenly, Wayne turned, gun held firmly in his hand. The shaking had subsided.
Bosco felt his eyes widen slightly, even as Wayne fired.
* * *
She had managed roughly ten minutes of sleep before the gut-wrenching feeling had awakened her efficiently. She looked around her hospital room again, wishing to be free of the confines of these walls, and to be able to go out and aid in the search for her missing partner.
She was alone for once, the others having shuffled off some time before her eyes had closed, and sleep had taken a hold of her for that short period.
Faith didn't feel any better for it. She felt on the verge of being physically ill, but pushed the sensation down, and looked around again.
Her eyes narrowed at something settled on her bedside cabinet just beside her cards and flowers, and her hand reached out and picked it up.
It was a radio. But where had it come from? She flipped open the small note laid next to it, and read the words written there in Sully's handwriting.
'Something to keep you updated.'
She had to smile... it was thoughtful. Now they wouldn't have to pop in and see her every half an hour to tell her what was going on, and she wouldn't have to sit here worrying insanely about what she was missing.
Faith was tempted to try and contact Bosco again herself, but resisted the urge. She would stay out of it for now, until called at least. She didn't want her signal to cut off something that was more urgent.
For now, she just had to wait. But whilst she sat patiently, her hand never let go of the radio, her fingers curled securely around it, not wanting to let it go or miss anything.
* * *
Slumped back against the wall, he groaned loudly, and let out a slow breath, his right hand travelling to the hole in his jacket and shirt, where the bullet had hit, throwing him back against the wall.
"Should have guessed you were wearing a vest," Wayne grumbled in disappointment.
The bullet-proof vest had managed to stop the projectile that had hit him just above the abdomen, and he thanked his lucky stars he had remembered to put it on at the start of the shift. He lowered his hand, taking in a breath before saying, "I'm a cop, Wayne... of course I'm wearing a vest."
Wayne had thrown the gun across the room not too long ago, after realising Bosco wasn't about to die anytime soon, and was now curling and uncurling his fingers quickly, and repetitively.
Bosco winced, rubbing the back of his head where he had been struck earlier, lowering his hand instantly at the pain it caused. He looked over as Wayne began fiddling with something that clicked constantly.
It took Bosco a moment to figure out what the object was, but when he did, he shook his head back and forth. "Wayne, don't."
Wayne laughed, eyes never leaving Bosco's. He flicked the lighter open again and again, lighting it every now and then, and waving it to and fro so the flame flickered.
"Why not?" Wayne asked quietly, in a menacing tone, "You scared?"
Dammit, don't worry about letting this guy know how you feel, he thought, and nodded. "Yes."
Wayne moved over, leaning in, and whispered, "Good."
Bosco closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Wayne was pacing away, over to the corner where he had tossed his coat, and flicked open the lighter, leaving it open.
"Wayne!"
His finger flicked the lighter into life, and he dropped it onto his coat, standing stock-still until a small flame leapt into existence.
"Wayne!" Bosco yelled again, yanking on the cuff desperately, eyes fixed on the fire that was starting to eat away at the coat. The flames spread quickly, melting the fabric, and turning it black. Smoke twisted up from the burning coat.
Wayne looked back at the panicking Bosco, causing him to stop and stare with a pleading look in his eye. He never thought he would be so frightened.
Wayne cocked his head to one side, glanced down at the fire, and tugged the radio out of his pocket, dangling it by its aerial for a minute, before slinging it just in front of him. Bosco saw it hit the floor, about seven feet away from him.
He shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to be able to reach that in time, and heard Wayne move to leave.
"No, wait, Wayne!" he yelled loudly, seeing the figure turn to face him, even as the flames began climbing eagerly up the wall, smoke swirling up to the ceiling. "Please don't do this."
Wayne stared stoically at Bosco, eyes never leaving his.
"Please."
Without a word, Wayne turned, closing the door behind him. Bosco heard a key turn.
"Wayne!" Bosco shouted at the top of his voice. "Wayne!"
A flare in the corner caught his eye, and he turned his head suddenly, feeling his breathing quicken with fear at the sight of the rapidly spreading fire. It was stretching up the wall now, and embers leapt from the coat to the floor. The smoke was starting to fill the ceiling.
His eyes flicked back down to the radio, and he began working on trying to reach it any way he could.
It was his only chance.
Davis was resistant. "No thanks. I feel better knowing I'm helping, you know?"
"What about your mom?"
Davis glanced his way, and instead of making a big deal of the subject, replied, "I rang her, told her not to wait up. I didn't tell her what was goin' on though."
Sully nodded his understanding, pulling into a space at the side of the road, and stepping out, saying, "I'll just be a minute."
Davis didn't say anything, and Sully closed the door behind him, striding the short distance to Mahoney, a young kid who often hung around with rough people.
The teenager spotted the police officer, and was immediately paranoid. "What did I do now? Who you been speakin' to, huh?"
"Calm down," Sully told him sternly, holding up a hand, trying not to look too intimidating, "I need to ask you if you know a guy called Wayne Thomson."
Mahoney furrowed his brow and turned his head slightly in confusion. "Why?"
"Do you know him or not?"
"Hey, I don't handle relations, you know? You gotta speak to my man, Spike, he handles communications with people like Thoms-"
"Spike just died, Mahoney," Sully cut in, seeing the stunned expression on the kid's face.
"Was it Thomson?"
"We think so. We guess he saw Spike speaking to one of our officers."
"Then your officer better watch his ass, you know what I'm sayin'?"
Sully wasn't in the mood for this crap, and glanced around to see what Davis was doing, finding the rookie seated contently in the car at the curb. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Mahoney. We haven't seen the officer in almost four hours. Thought you might have seen something... he's about five-eleven, dark hair, moody, you seen him? Name's Boscorelli."
"That guy? Spike knew that guy," Mahoney said quietly, shaking his head. "I ain't seen him in over a week, Sully, man, you know I wouldn't lie to you. You can always tell when I'm lyin'."
"Yeah I can, Mahoney."
Mahoney and Sully stared at each other for a while, before the latter gave a sigh, and nodded. "Alright, Mahoney, keep yourself outta trouble, okay?"
"You know me, Sully."
Just as Sully was about to climb back in the car, the door open, and one leg inside already, Mahoney called to him, "Hey, you better find your friend fast, man, Thomson's one crazy guy. He finds him, he don't stand a chance."
Sully hovered half-in-half-out of the car for a few seconds before sliding all the way in and slamming the door, starting up the engine without looking anywhere besides the road ahead.
* * *
Bosco was busy tugging at the cuff and the radiator, kicking it often, when the door opened, and in walked a familiar figure, dark coat drawn around his scrawny frame, baseball cap pulled down low so that the peak cast a shadow down most of his face.
Bosco looked up at him, and felt all the anger and rage from the past few hours coalesce suddenly, and he gave one giant tug on the cuff, feeling it ache around his wrist from all the times he had tried previously.
Wayne laughed, quietly, manically.
Bosco sat still for a minute, watching the random movements of the guy across the room, seeing his feet shuffle, his eyes dart around. He was a mess.
"Wayne, you don't wanna do this," Bosco tried quietly, trying to keep calm. It wouldn't do him any good to lose his temper now. He needed to get through to this guy, talk with him, convince him that his actions were only making things worse.
Wayne nodded quickly. "Yes, I do."
"You so sure about that? You say you don't wanna go to jail, but... my god," Bosco stared at the disgruntled poor excuse for a man, and continued, "you really are insane."
Bad idea, he thought as a bullet tore into the wall about two feet from him, causing him to start suddenly with the force that ripped into the material. He glanced to the hole, and then up at Wayne, who had already lost interest in what he had just done, and was pacing randomly about the room, walking this way and that, mumbling to himself.
Bosco turned his head from staring at the radiator when he heard a familiar crackle, followed by a muffled voice.
Wayne looked over at Bosco as though he had done something out of turn, and then pulled back one flap of his coat, glancing half-heartedly at the piece of police equipment that stuck out of his pocket.
"Wayne, we can end this before it gets outta hand," Bosco told him, standing as much as he could manage, the radiator being too low to allow him to rise to his full height. "Just hand me the radio, and we can finish this."
Wayne snapped, and raised his voice, saying, "This isn't over yet, and you know it! They won't let me go after what I've done... but..." his voice quietened suddenly, and Bosco furrowed his brow.
Wayne continued, "But I don't remember... it's all so messy." He tapped his head and laughed to himself, turning away from Bosco.
Sighing, and realising just how far this guy had gone over the edge, Bosco spoke to him again, "I know what you did... I remember, Wayne."
The figure turned back to him, and the eyes narrowed. "I don't."
Bosco was quiet for a while, before he was unable to keep it locked in anymore. He clearly remembered seeing Wayne pull that trigger hours ago, hearing the explosion from the barrel, watching it hit Faith. It was too hard to control it anymore. "Well how about I refresh your memory, Wayne, huh? You took a friend of mine hostage, and then shot my partner!"
He heard the rattle of the cuff on the radiator, but ignored it, balling his fist angrily. "You're lucky you're a bad shot, Wayne. If you'd have killed her... I swear you wouldn't live to regret it." His words came out a growl, and he locked eyes with the young man.
Wayne closed in on him, staring right into him. "She didn't die?" He smiled, bit his lip. "I remember her now. I missed?"
Bosco grabbed for him instantly, but he moved back too quickly, and he missed. Wayne laughed insanely, reaching his hands into his pockets distractedly, seemingly not realising what he was doing. His hand came back out, his fist balled around something. Mumbling to himself, he pulled off his coat.
Bosco watched the movements, shaking his head. "My god, what's wrong with you?" he muttered under his breath. Wayne didn't hear... or he ignored him, either way, he threw his coat on the floor in the corner and stared at it, as if waiting for it to move. What was he doing?
"Wayne, listen to me," Bosco attempted, "whatever's goin' through your head, we can get you help."
"I don't need any help from anyone, least of all you," Wayne hissed, turning back on Bosco with wide eyes that stunned the police officer a little, even frightened him somewhat.
The distance between them closed in rapidly as Wayne spoke, "I know what you people are like. You don't care what I'm really like, you just wanna lock me away forever, never let me out again... I know."
Bosco shook his head in disbelief. This guy had no idea what he was really doing. Spike hadn't been exaggerating... Wayne had completely lost it, and he was freaking out.
Wayne's hand latched onto the front of Bosco's uniform and pushed him back with force, the cold eyes staring, the fingers curled so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He was shaking again.
Bosco tried to get Wayne's hand off of him, but failed. Wayne was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked at first glance. Bosco made a mental note to never judge strength by the way the person looked again after today.
"Just let me go, Wayne, and..."
"And what? You can arrest me? No way," Wayne said, letting go slowly, releasing the front of the uniform gradually, and shrinking away. "I'm not going to jail."
He turned his back on Bosco again, giving the officer time to let out a slow breath of relief after the sudden outburst from Wayne. For one minute he had thought Wayne was going to strangle him.
There was that laugh again, and words that Bosco was unable to pick out.
Suddenly, Wayne turned, gun held firmly in his hand. The shaking had subsided.
Bosco felt his eyes widen slightly, even as Wayne fired.
* * *
She had managed roughly ten minutes of sleep before the gut-wrenching feeling had awakened her efficiently. She looked around her hospital room again, wishing to be free of the confines of these walls, and to be able to go out and aid in the search for her missing partner.
She was alone for once, the others having shuffled off some time before her eyes had closed, and sleep had taken a hold of her for that short period.
Faith didn't feel any better for it. She felt on the verge of being physically ill, but pushed the sensation down, and looked around again.
Her eyes narrowed at something settled on her bedside cabinet just beside her cards and flowers, and her hand reached out and picked it up.
It was a radio. But where had it come from? She flipped open the small note laid next to it, and read the words written there in Sully's handwriting.
'Something to keep you updated.'
She had to smile... it was thoughtful. Now they wouldn't have to pop in and see her every half an hour to tell her what was going on, and she wouldn't have to sit here worrying insanely about what she was missing.
Faith was tempted to try and contact Bosco again herself, but resisted the urge. She would stay out of it for now, until called at least. She didn't want her signal to cut off something that was more urgent.
For now, she just had to wait. But whilst she sat patiently, her hand never let go of the radio, her fingers curled securely around it, not wanting to let it go or miss anything.
* * *
Slumped back against the wall, he groaned loudly, and let out a slow breath, his right hand travelling to the hole in his jacket and shirt, where the bullet had hit, throwing him back against the wall.
"Should have guessed you were wearing a vest," Wayne grumbled in disappointment.
The bullet-proof vest had managed to stop the projectile that had hit him just above the abdomen, and he thanked his lucky stars he had remembered to put it on at the start of the shift. He lowered his hand, taking in a breath before saying, "I'm a cop, Wayne... of course I'm wearing a vest."
Wayne had thrown the gun across the room not too long ago, after realising Bosco wasn't about to die anytime soon, and was now curling and uncurling his fingers quickly, and repetitively.
Bosco winced, rubbing the back of his head where he had been struck earlier, lowering his hand instantly at the pain it caused. He looked over as Wayne began fiddling with something that clicked constantly.
It took Bosco a moment to figure out what the object was, but when he did, he shook his head back and forth. "Wayne, don't."
Wayne laughed, eyes never leaving Bosco's. He flicked the lighter open again and again, lighting it every now and then, and waving it to and fro so the flame flickered.
"Why not?" Wayne asked quietly, in a menacing tone, "You scared?"
Dammit, don't worry about letting this guy know how you feel, he thought, and nodded. "Yes."
Wayne moved over, leaning in, and whispered, "Good."
Bosco closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Wayne was pacing away, over to the corner where he had tossed his coat, and flicked open the lighter, leaving it open.
"Wayne!"
His finger flicked the lighter into life, and he dropped it onto his coat, standing stock-still until a small flame leapt into existence.
"Wayne!" Bosco yelled again, yanking on the cuff desperately, eyes fixed on the fire that was starting to eat away at the coat. The flames spread quickly, melting the fabric, and turning it black. Smoke twisted up from the burning coat.
Wayne looked back at the panicking Bosco, causing him to stop and stare with a pleading look in his eye. He never thought he would be so frightened.
Wayne cocked his head to one side, glanced down at the fire, and tugged the radio out of his pocket, dangling it by its aerial for a minute, before slinging it just in front of him. Bosco saw it hit the floor, about seven feet away from him.
He shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to be able to reach that in time, and heard Wayne move to leave.
"No, wait, Wayne!" he yelled loudly, seeing the figure turn to face him, even as the flames began climbing eagerly up the wall, smoke swirling up to the ceiling. "Please don't do this."
Wayne stared stoically at Bosco, eyes never leaving his.
"Please."
Without a word, Wayne turned, closing the door behind him. Bosco heard a key turn.
"Wayne!" Bosco shouted at the top of his voice. "Wayne!"
A flare in the corner caught his eye, and he turned his head suddenly, feeling his breathing quicken with fear at the sight of the rapidly spreading fire. It was stretching up the wall now, and embers leapt from the coat to the floor. The smoke was starting to fill the ceiling.
His eyes flicked back down to the radio, and he began working on trying to reach it any way he could.
It was his only chance.
