Title: Facing The Music
Summary: Takes place sometime in the 5th season. Learning how to deal with life changes is not always easy.
Spoilers: 5th Season
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Sorry.
Notes: So, I felt like writing a Cruz fic. So that's exactly what I did. = )
Reviews: Reviews are great and encouraging to writing a new chapter. Not sure if this is a stand alone though. You decide.
Time passes by so slowly now, it really does. The clock just keeps going in slow motion and yet, I try so hard to keep up, so damn hard to run. But then it gets foggy and I realize I no longer know what I'm running for. That's when I stop and get lost behind, lost and dead to the world.
That's how it always was though.
That's about all I knew. Know.
Anti Crime is gone.
My team is gone.
And so is my life.
The life I had once cherished more then anything. My life that I had grown so accustomed to as a cop. I was a good cop. No, I was a great cop. I got the job done and that's all the mattered.
Now I have a life of a different person. Detective Mahoney came right up to me, right to my face, as soon as I woke up from surgery and told me, "Maritza, you will never be a cop again." I didn't understand it then. Especially when they told me I was under arrest. Hell, I didn't even know where I was for dios sake. He kept going on about my rights and how Lieutenant Dade was arrested. Anger filled my veins.
Those are the basic hard cold facts that took me too long to understand. Hell, I had enough time to think about it the several weeks I stood in Central Lock Up. You'd think I'd be thrilled to be out of there, don't get me wrong, I am. I just don't savor the feeling of going back to your home that you haven't been in for weeks, the cold and bone chilling darkness. The pure sense of loneliness is what kills me.
I was lucky though. Or that's what I have been told. I'm pretty damn lucky I met bail. I mean come on, who the hell would bail a dirty cop like me out of jail? Don't ask me, I wasn't informed. They just told me to get the hell out. I did what I was told without question too.
I'm practically harmless though now. I'm mentally and physically set in a manacle that my will can never break through. Thanks to that fucking bitch, there is not all too much left of my knee. Noble's 'defensive' bullet tore the bone away before I could comprehend what was happening. The doctor told me it would be a miracle if I can ever walk again without crutches. It wasn't that statement that bothered me the most though, it was the way he said it. I'm sure those jag-offs will be happy, and Bosco and his gullible bitch too.
It won't constrain me though.
The one thing they don't know is Maritza Cruz is indestructible. A walking time bomb. The walking part, of course, is not taken literally.
All I'm thankful for is getting rid of the evidence, the evidence that wouldn't justify all too well in court, the unregistered guns, coke, methane, crack, pot. In others words, my little insurance policy that couldn't hurt. Well at least I didn't think so at the time.
I also didn't think I'd have to spend days in jail to learn I'll never be able to walk again.
I had ridded myself of it the few days before the shooting just incase Boscorelli went snooping around some more. Which I'm sure he did.
I didn't want to go back to my place. Something just didn't feel write. The one place that I called home for nearly 8 years was now a part of who I was. Things had changed and it just reminded me of the glory I had.
The glory I had lost.
And to what? Too, two low-life beat cops and I mound of unbelievable lies. I had buried it upon myself though, and I knew it. How I had been so stupid, I will never know.
Too many mixed emotions spun in me, ready to twist out of control, and erupt like a tornado. The feelings I have are endless. Frustration, anger, and betrayal are just several that make me want to pull every strand of hair out of my head. The worst of them all is disappointment and defeat. Everything I had been working towards was ripped away from me like a child getting there Christmas presents stolen.
The prize was stolen away from me. The prize I had worked so hard to achieve.
Months of working towards finding this Beuford was spoiled, all my cases, all the skels that I locked up were sent back to trial. I had let myself down and I was more then sure I had disappointed the one person who I was doing this for as well. Lettie. That's just one thing I know will always stay with me.
The guilt.
The feeling of finally being defeated. This feeling was something I, Maritza Cruz, had never ever experienced. It was always my way, and I mean it, always. I got what I wanted and that was just the damned way it was, whether you liked it or not. Too bad.
I'm not one to regret my actions. But by the outcome of this experience, the only thing I regret is dragging Bosco into this. Obviously he grew a conscience for the first time. And what great timing he did too. Just to think, we were so close to putting this bastard away for good.
I was so close to moving on with my life. So god damn close to letting some of the coldness melt away into the sun. Well now, that's not ever going to happen. And I have Boscorelli to blame for that.
"Lady, isn't this your place? 13-49 on West?" A voice startles me as I snap back to reality, my eyes narrowed almost in annoyance at the interrupt from my thoughts. Pulling my gaze from the window I look towards the cab driver and nod slowly.
"Yah." I mutter before shifting my weight on my side before digging around in my back pocket in search for money. After a moment of fishing though my pockets I finally find a $20 and hand it over. Grabbing my crutches I open the door to the arctic air and maneuver my way out, on my good leg.
"You need help hun?" He asks watching me, almost with an amused grin.
Fuck off bastard.
"No, I got' it." I reply holding back my anger and finding my footing, the crutches slipped under my raw arms. The icy rain pelts down on me as a sense of a punishement. I curse slightly to myself grinding my teeth near agony. It wasn't as much of the pain from my leg but the numbness that took over my body as the frozen rain drops trickled down my cheek and down my back, along the bare skin under my tee. The only clothes I had been left with were a pair of jeans and a shirt. My jacket had been confiscated for evidence. What a bitch that was.
Watching as the cab pulled away and disappeared down the road I glared around my wonderful broken down neighborhood. Home huh? It was just the same as I left it. The dim street lights expressed the dimension of the buildings and the few things that came in between them. The cars. The people. The same gang was sitting the porch of a run down building a few places away, the same loud music coming from the building, and the scent of smoke and drugs lingered in the air.
Hovering as quickly as I could make it to the building, I used my hand to open the door and make my way inside. Good thing my place was on the first floor or god knows how the hell I was supposed to make it.
Taking my time, my eyes adjusted to the low amount of light that leaked into the hall, the light-bulb overhead, doing its usual flickering. The loud music of 'Get Low' echoed into the shadowed hall making my cringe. Some things never change.
Sighing deeply I found my door and now for the task of finding my keys. Resting the one crutch on the side panel I shifted on to my good leg and reached into my jean pocket pulling out a small rusted key. Holding back as a wave of pain stroke over my destroyed body, I bit my tongue and stood still for a moment.
Waiting. Waiting as the pain started to slink away. I had to be careful I didn't turn the wrong way, and had to be careful not even a small force came in contact with my dead knee or there was hell to pay. In pain.
I unlocked the door slowly urging to get away from the music and from the world. But as I entered my apartment, I was forced to face the music.