Title: For Mogans Sake
Author: Fyre
Category: Drama/Angst
Email: Boscosbabe55@bellsouth.net
AIM: ToriBoscorelli
Spoilers: Bosco has a daughter
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of John Wells and Edward Allen Bernero and NBC. Those lucky bastards. I'm only renting them for a while, I plan to be kind a rewind
when I return them.
A/N: I wrote this fic out of boredom the other night. My internet wasn't letting me on so while I waited I started this fic, I really have no set plot for it.

Bosco's POV

Swersky seemed a bit shocked at first, by the whole me bein' a dad an' what not. Yea, I came right out an' I tol' him. Figured it'd make things a helluva lot easier, then beatin' 'round the bush, like a jack ass. Soon I departed Swersky's office an' headed back to Morgan. She was sittin' in roll call drawin' in some kinda sketch book or somethin'. Lemme tell ya somethin' even though I only caught a quick glimpse of whatever it was she was drawin', this girl was in-fuckin'-credible at it. I mean she could fuckin' draw. I caught jus' a little bit, but I saw this picture of an old cabin, an' woods. There was a deer out in front as well. I've never seen someone her age, draw somethin' so beautiful. "Whatcha ya drawin' Hun?" I asked her, as she quickly closed the book stuffing it in her bag. The drawin' musta come from her ma, 'cause I can't drawn a straight line without a ruler.

"Nothin'....I'm not drawing anything." She replied.

I look over towards Sasha. "Thanks for watchin' her." I say softly my eyes on my daughter.

"Hey don't worry about it Bosco. So I'll see you tomorrow?" She asks me.

"No I'm uhm...took a few days off. Help her get settled in."

"Can we go now?" Morgan asks me, a hint of anger in her voice.

I nod. "Yeah getcha your stuff an' we'll go. I got a few days off, so we'll have time to get you settled in okay." I tell Morgan.

"Okay well I'll see you soon Bosco." Sasha says smiling at Morgan. "Nice meeting you Morgan."

Morgan only nods her head as I put my arm 'round her an' lead her outta roll call, down the crowed hall of the precinct.

By the time we get outside, it's dark already, I pull her a little closer to me, protectin' her an' what not. "Stay right by me okay Hun?"

I take her to my car an' unlock the door openin' it up for her an' lettin' her get in. She stops an' stares at it, momentarily.

"This yours?"

"Yup, she's all mine?" I tell her.

She turns her head my way. "Does -she- have a name?"

I smile. "Yup...Sally...you know Mustang Sally."

She nods, with a small smirk across her face. "Lame...that's like so, totally unoriginal." She then finishes her statement up with an eye roll.

Least shes' talkin' to me. "Well then what do ya suppose I call her?" I ask her as she climbs in. I run over to my side unlockin' the door an' gettin' in myself. Morgan turns her head my way.

"I dunno...but Sally is such a square name. Like L7 loser type of name." She makes an L with her index finger and her thumb, an' with her other hand she does the same thin', but only upside down. She then brings her hands together.

I stare at her. I don' mean to be starin' at her an' all, but what in the blue hell is a L7 loser. "What's a L7 loser."

"No way...dude..,." She has this look on her face, makin' me feel completely stupid. "means squared loser." She does that thing with her thumb an' index finger again. "See how it make's kinda like a square....that's an L7 loser."

"Looks more like a rectangle to me." I tell her blankly.

She then makes a W with her thumbs an' index fingers. "Whatever..."

"I'm serious."

Now she makes 'nother L an' bring it up to her forehead. Suddenly I hear the words from Smashmouth's All-Star song. So I begin to sing. "She was lookin' kinda dumb, with her finger an' her thumb. In the shape of an L on forehead...."

Now she's totally embarrassed by me an' hides her face with her hand. "You are -so- lame."

"But that make's me cool right?"

Now she's starin' at me an' then rolls her eyes. With a long annoyed sigh. "Nooooo."

"How does one become "cool"?" I ask her turnin' the engine over.

"Dude like shut up an' drive, before you say anythin' else that's gay."

I look over makin' sure it's clear before I pull out an' I then look over at my daughter her eyes closed tightly as I pull out.. Poor girl, she's scared to death. I can't even imagine what the accident was like for her.

We drive a while longer, she stares out the window watching. "Morgan, I need you to tell me somethin'" I was goin' to get what happen to her, out of her...eventually. "I need you to tell me if you step did, hurt you more then once.

She looks at me for a while but doesn't answer, she then goes back to looking out the window. Right then an' there I know it was more then once, jus' don' know how many times. How many times did that bastard hurt he?. He better hope he don't cross me neither, 'cause I will kill him. "Morgan." I reach my hand out but she practically hugs the car door. "Please tell me." My voice cracks with a bit of emotion

"I never realized how big the city was."

Great she's avoiding the subject, how the hell am I suppose to help her if she won't tell me. I have -no- idea what to do.

"Morgan, Hun I asked you a question." I'm trying not to get firm with her, but really what choice do I have. I haveta know, I gotta help her. God sakes she's my baby.

She still stares out the window. "It's so big, everyone is so busy. Nothin' like it was in Missouri."

Sonofabitch, the hell am I to do? Who the fuck am I suppose to talk to? I know who, but I can't. I can't she wants nothin' to do with me. I fell tears form in my eyes but I hold them back, I don't want to cry in front of her an' I can't cry in front of her. I'm her rock right now. What good am I if I'm cryin'? Please tell me how I'm goin' to do this. "Well when you're ready to talk I'm here okay?" I say not knowing what else I should do. She looks at me. I see her eyes, eyes filled with pain, fear and sadness. Three things I wish my daughter wasn't feeling right now. I wanna replace those three things with nothin' but happiness. That's -all- I want for her, is to be happy.

We arrive at my place and she hasn't spoken much more, in fact she's hardly spoken at all. Which worries me 'cause now I don't know what's really goin' through her mind. I'd really like to know. "Okay this is it....it's not much, but it's got two bedrooms, so you'll have your own room. Back rooms kinda messy right now. Don' worry I'll fix that tomorrow. So for tonight I'll take the couch you can have my bed okay."

She says nothin' gettin' outta the car. She holds her backpack close to her, like someone is 'bout to steal it. Morgan follows me up the steps, her eyes, still filled with pain, fear and sadness. Lookin' 'round, searchin' for whatever. "I got cable an' you can watch whatever you want? If Ya hungry I can order us some pizza, an' well jus' make ya self at home. Please." I speak softly, holding the door to my apartment open for her.

Once again her eyes search wildly 'round my apartment. She stops an' looks at pictures that sit on my end table. Most of 'em are of my ma, one is of Faith an' I at some retirement party, an' the other is of Mikey an' when we were kids. I feel bad 'cause I don' have one of her up there, so I try an' make her understand. Least I hope she does. "I never put none of your pictures up there 'cause I keep 'em in the nightstand by my bed. So they can be the last thing I look at before I hit the sack.

"You ain't gotta lie yo, s'cool. None of your friends an' family knew 'bout me 'til now. I understand. Why let people know 'bout a secret you're ashamed of." She said sitting down on the couch.

I take a seat along side her. "Morgan who said I was ashamed of you?" I ask, hurting even more now that she's feelin' this way. Wishin' more then ever I would'a tried harder with her Heather.

"No one, I jus' know. I ain't stupid dad." She picks the remote off of the coffee table. "I was a mistake I know....but like I said s'cool."

My heart breaks an' once again tears threaten my eyes, seein' jus' how bad she hurts. Hearin' what she feels and thinks. "NO!" I say a little harshly. "You're not a mistake......you weren't a mistake. Your mother thought it was best this way."

"Maybe you should'a tried harder to fight her. Keep her from goin' to Missouri." She says not lookin' at me. "Obviously you really didn't want me or else you would'a tried lot harder."

Well now she's succeeded at makin' me feel like shit. Why didn't I try harder? Not like I was scared? I wasn't. little young yes....maybe, but I wasn't scared. An' it's not like I didn't want her. I did an' yes I loved her. God did I love her. She was the perfect baby. So why did I Maurice Boscorelli give up that easy? I wish I only knew. Had I known that 13 years ago, my daughter would be sittin' her, in the flesh feelin' these thoughts, thinkin' these thoughts....then I would've never given up so easy. Usually when I'm serious 'bout somethin' or someone I don' give up so easily. So what made her so different? Oh yea now I 'memeber, visions of my old man.

My eyes soften as I look at my daughter. Her face hidin' the sadness she's buried deep inside her, forcin' it down, not lettin' it out. "Morgan, don' think like that babe. I wanted you I really did. I tired but like I said, your mother thought it was better this way."

"Maybe ya didn't love me...."

I swallow hard, a huge lump begins to form in my throat. "No...God no. You have no idea how much I loved ya an' still do." She turns to me as I speak an' now the pain in her face is all to real as I begin to let tears fall. Quickly though I dry 'em up. "Morgan, there hasn't been a day that's gone by where I haven't thought of you." I say honestly, 'cause honestly there hasn't. There's two pictures in my duty cap...my ma an' Morgan. Though my ma's the one people see, still Morgan's picture is in there. An' not jus' any picture of her. A picture of me holdin' her on the day she was born. May 7th, 1990. Me an' my beautiful infant daughter.

Puttin' the remote down she stands up. "Where's my room...your room whatever?" She says grabbing her bag. "I'm tired."

"Follow me, I'll give ya some sweats to sleep in. They might be a little big, but tomorrow we'll getcha the rest of your stuff okay." I say softly wanting too...aching to reach my hand out to her, but fear of rejection stops me. Fear that my daughter hates me is what's stoppin' me. I feel like the worlds biggest asshole, for not tryin' to fight for her harder. Maybe Faith was right when she said I was useless.

She comes with me to my room an' I rummage through my dresser drawers and hand her some sweats an' a shirt. "The bathroom's to ya right. You can change in there if you want."

She nods and quietly leaves the room. I fix the bed for her so that it's ready when she gets in, addin' an extra blanket jus' in case she's cold.

A short while she returns, the sweats obviously to big on her small body. The site makes me smile, seein' how cute an' adorable she looks, yet it quickly fades knowin' I've missed so much of this. Knowin' I've already miss 13 years....13 important years of her life. 'Cause I didn't fight harder....I gave up, an' didn't try.

She crawls into the bed an' I tuck her in, 'nother thin' I've missed 13 years of. Which breaks my already broken heart even more. As I do so I debate weather or not to kiss her goodnight, but opt not to. I've already done enough damage tonight.

She looks 'round the bedroom, somewhat panic stricken. "Where's my bag" She cries out.

I walk over to the chair I laid it on. "Right here Hun. Why?"

She looks at me eyeingly. "Can you.......you think..." She pauses. "Think you can open it an' give me the bear that's inside, his names' Co-Co...it's a lil' brown white bear."

Instantly I freeze in my tracks. She's kept the bear I gave her? Not only has she kept it but she's kept the name too. You have no idea jus' how happy that made me. Though I'm still hurtin' inside. Hurtin' 'cause I feel like I abandoned my child some 13 years back.

Unzippin' the backpack I pull out the bear, then zip the bag back up before handin' the bear to my daughter. "Here." I say faintly smilin' as I hand her the bear

She reaches for it an' takes it into her hands, holdin' on to it for dear life. "Thanks...for the bear. It uhm..." I can sense the awkwardness as her voice trembles. "I go everywhere with it."

WOW! She even knows I gave it to her. I wasn't exceptin' that. "No problem hadda get ya somethin' an' I thought that would be a great gift."

She nods curlin' up under the blankets.

I smiled still optin' out on kissin' her g'night. Maybe tomorrow. "Sleep tight kiddo." I say turnin' the light off.

I painstakingly make my way back to the living room. Sittin' down on the couch as I now break down into sobs. I did the unthinkable....I've let my daughter down. Cryin' I find myself reachin' over for the phone, dialin' an all to familiar number. I cross my finger as I hold my breath, suddenly I hear the voice at the other end.

"Hello...?"

I hear my former partner and best friend at the other end. I musta been silent for a while 'cause again I hear her voice.

"Hello?"

Takin' a deep breath, I finally speak. "F-faith.....it's.....uh it's me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Morgan's POV

So I sat an' waited in this little room. Had a buncha desks all up in it an' what not. I did my best to avoid Sasha's endless questions. One thin' I beginnin' to learn is that cops are nosey. All they wanna know is your business, it's like they ain't got nothin' better to do. I'm startin' to wonder weather or not Sasha is writing a book. If she is, she can leave that chapter out. I'm no ones best seller.

I'm sittin' drawin' in my sketch pad. I've always loved drawin'. Kinda relaxin' takes my mind offa things for a bit. My mom use to tell me I was the best artist she ever knew. She musta not known a lot of artists then 'cause really I ain't all that. I look up from whatever it was I'm drawin'. A cabin in the woods with a deer in front. Kinda like the one I went campin' at a few year ago. I see my dad come in an' lemme tell you somethin' 'bout fuckin' time too. Sasha was really startin' to get on my nerves.

. "Whatcha ya drawin' Hun?" he asks me as I quickly close up my sketch pad burying it deep into my backpack, checkin' to make sure Co-Co's still in there.

"Nothin'....I'm not drawing anything." Which really was the truth I wasn't drawin' much of anythin' it was more like doddlin' I guess.

I watch him look over at Sasha. "Thanks for watchin' her." he tells her lookin' back at me.

Yea Sasha thanks for the game of 20 questions, I loved it. Really it's been fun, don' think that it hasn't.

She gives him the cheeseiest smile I've seen in a million years. "Hey don't worry about it Bosco. So I'll see you tomorrow?"

I roll my eyes, way to suck him off. This lady is a real winner. Not only is she nosey, but if she's not kissin' my dad's ass.....either that or she wants to screw him. Now don' get me wrong here, Sasha she's nice an' all, but she's got get her issues in line here.

"No I'm uhm...took a few days off. Help her get settled in." He tells her.

Great so now I can't take care of myself. Man's gotta miss a few days of work, gotta lose some pay, all 'cause my mother was killed. I'm fully annoyed by this point. "Can we go now?" I ask a bit on the harsh side, 'cause frankly I wanna get the fuck outta here an' don't wanna be stickin' 'round for chit chat.

He nods. "Yeah getcha your stuff an' we'll go. I got a few days off, so we'll have time to get you settled in okay."

I heard you the first time. I know you took some time off, I heard you. Jesus Christ what's wrong with you people?

"Okay well I'll see you soon Bosco." She says flashin' him that smile again

Uh huh I bet you will see him soon.

"Nice meeting you Morgan." Now Oprah here is smilin' at me.

Oh lucky me! I say nothin' in reply to her 'cause I'm sick of hearin' her voice. I wonder if she ever gets sick of hearin' herself. My dad he wraps his arm 'round me leadin' me outta that small; stuffy room, an' down a real crowded hallway. Buncha no good criminals. Shouldn't my dad be out somewhere. Beatin' these ass holes with a nightstick; instead of playin' baby-sitter to me?

Then he gets all fatherly like again an' pulls me in close to him. "Stay right by me, okay Hun?"

Like really....like I'm goin' anywhere anytime soon. I wouldn't be so lucky. He takes me to his car an' I'll give the man credit, it's a pretty tight ride yo. I may sound crass here, but it's tighter then a virgins pussy.

"This yours?" I ask him outta curiosity. Yea, yea I know curiosity killed the cat.

"Yup, she's all mine?" He tells me smilin' proud at the car.

Why is it that men refer to their cars as she? -She- most likely has a name, guys can't resist to name things that aren't living. Their remote control for the TV, bet the name that. They name their dick....that's for damn sure, an' their cars....they name their cars. I look at him, I gotta ask, really I haveta. "Does -she- have a name?" I ask lookin' at him, knowing full well -she- does, as I pray it ain't somethin' cheap an' lame like Sally.

He smiled at me an' it's rather freaky too. "Yup...Sally...you know Mustang Sally."

Oh my GAWD! What a tool. That's such a lame, used up name. Again I'm goin' to be crass here 'cause well I gotta point to make. The name Sally for a Mustang, is as used up as 65 year old, hookers', pussy. I smirk 'cause really I can't believe it. "Lame...that's like so, totally unoriginal." I tell him rolling my eyes.

"Well then what do ya suppose I call her?" He asks me.

What the hell do I look like? A book of a 1,001 car names? I shrug. "I dunno...but Sally is such a square name. Like L7 loser type of name." I tell him makin' two L's with my fingers and thumb, one right side up an' one upside down. I then bring 'em together to form a square. I watch my dad for a while. He seems lost, he seems confused, I'll betcha he doesn't even know what L7 loser means?

"What's a L7 loser." he asks me.

Thought so. "No way...dude..,." I tell him just starin' in disbelief. So now I haveta explain to him what it means. 'Cause I know if I don' he'll -never- shut the hell up. "Means squared loser." You know a dork, kinda like you. I make the square with my fingers and thumbs again, showing him once more. . "See how it make's kinda like a square....that's an L7 loser."

"Looks more like a rectangle to me." He tells me, a serious look on his face.

I make a W with my fingers 'cause I'm shocked at his...well lets jus' say he ain't all that an' a bag of chips type of deal. "Whatever..."

"I'm serious." and he was, which made the whole thing even funnier.

I make an L with my index finger and thumb an' bring it to my forehead, the word LOSER running through my forehead. Now the situation becomes scary an' the man starts to sing.

"She was lookin' kinda dumb, with her finger an' her thumb. In the shape of an L on forehead...."

Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with this man? Jesus Christ he's such a -dork-. How the hell can one man embarrass me so much? I stare blankly at. "You are -so- lame!" I tell him matter-of-factly. Really he's tryin' way to hard.

"But that makes me cool right?"

Holy shit! Will he -ever- give up? I sit an' I stare at him some more. I've been doin' a lot of starin', mainly at him. I roll my eyes outta frustration. "Nooooo.."

Lookin' at me he starts the car. "How does one become "cool"?? He asks me, the funny thing is, I think he's serious as a heart attack 'bout the question. I can't take it anymore, my head is 'bout to explode, I don' know what the kinda father/daughter bondin' shit this is, but sure as hell ain't normal. "Dude like shut up an' drive, before you say anythin' else that's gay." I was serious, 'cause he was diggin' himself a deeper hole.

As he pulls out into traffic I have flashback. Flashbacks of the accident. I hear the screeching tires, hear my mom scream, her the crunchin' of the steel, an' the glass breakin'. Then I can smell the gas, an' engine fluids, an' I feel wetness. It's my mom's blood, she bleedin' so bad. I was so scared....I've never been so scared before. I keep my eyes close, scared to see what's goin' to happen. I'm scared we'll get hit an' now someone will take my dad away from me an' I'll be alone for sure.

I finally open them when I know...or least I think it's safe to open. I breath a sigh of relief, my dad's still alive.

"Morgan, I need you to tell me somethin'" He says to me.

Oh no, nothin' good ever comes out of I need you to tell me somethin' or we need to talk. If someone says to you, "We need to talk", build a fire in the house, it's easier.

"I need you to tell me if you step dad, hurt you more then once.

I don' wanna answer this an' I won't anwser this. No, I can't he doesn't understand how hard it is to talk 'bout it. How it makes me feel, maybe if I pretend that I didn't hear him he'll ignore me an' drop it...maybe.

"Morgan." He says while tryin' to reach his hand out and comfort me. "Please tell me." His voice breaks a little, like he's 'bout to cry or somethin'"

Thing is I don' want him touchin' me right now. I can't I jus' don' want him to do that. I go on pretendin' like I didn't hear his question. "I never realized how big the city was." I tell him looking out the window as the building and people zoom on by.

"Morgan, Hun I asked you a question." He tells me, like I didn't already know.

Yeah I know what you asked me damn it, I'm not deaf, I jus' don' wanna answer the damn thin' okay. Can't you fuckin' understand that? I keep my eyes starin' out the window pushin' back anger an' sadness....an' some fear. Fear Greg will find me an' hurt me -again-. "It's so big, everyone is so busy. Nothing like it was in Missouri." It really isn't like Missuori, there's so many different kinda people. The city is full of hustle and bustle...everywhere.

Quickly I look over at him, he really looks like he's goin' to cry. I hope he don' 'cause I know I'll cry. An' I can't cry, not right now. I've done enough of that today. I can't cry. Please Daddy it's okay don' cry.

"Well when you're ready to talk I'm here okay." He says in a strong, heartfelt, deep, and sincere voice.

I'll try dad, I will but I ain't makin' no promises. It's jus' to hard, an' hurts too much. We're here, I'm finally at my new home, an' I hope it stay that way. I hope Greg doesn't find me.

"Okay this is it....it's not much, but it's got two bedrooms, so you'll have your own room. Back rooms kinda messy right now. Don' worry I'll fix that tomorrow. So for tonight I'll take the couch you can have my bed okay." He tells me.

Men, they always have an excuse fore everythin'. I keep my backpack close to me, not wantin' to let it outta my site. My most prized possessions are in there an' no one's gunna take 'em away. I cautiously follow him up, the steps to his apartment still uneasy 'bout this whole thing, but thankful I'm not alone right now. Thankful, that if I need someone to lean on....I have someone...I have my dad. My -real- dad.

"I got cable an' you can watch whatever you want? If Ya hungry I can order us some pizza, an' well jus' make ya self at home. Please." He tells me softly and caring. He hold the door open as I walk into his place. Everythin' so different right now, nothin' is like it -was-. Nothin' will ever be like it -was-. I'll never see my mom again.

I look 'round his apartment,. it has that cozy bachelor look. You can tell he's gotton lucky on his couch quite a few times. It's this black, leather couch. Kinda fluffly lookin' with it's pillows. He definitely had sex on his mind when he bought it. I look 'round some more an' I see these pictures on a table.

Some are of this older lady, who kinda looks like him. Must be his mom, must be nice to still have a mom. One of him I guess as a kid an' some other boy, an' then one of him an' some blonde lady, they both I dressed pretty fancy an' he's lookin' kinda silly, but he seems to be havin' a good time. There's none of me. There's none of his daughter. Guess I was a big secret, if he can't keep any pictures of me.

"I never put none of your pictures up there 'cause I keep 'em in the nightstand by my bed. So they can be the last thing I look at before I hit the sack.

He didn't haveta lie. I knew the truth, I was a mistake, he didn't want anyone knowin' he had a daughter. "You ain't gotta lie yo, s'cool. None of your friends an' family knew 'bout me 'til now. I understand. Why let people know 'bout a secret you're ashamed of." 'Cause that's what it is right? He's ashamed to have a daughter like me. I sit down on the black, leather, sex couch.

He sits down next to me. "Morgan who said I was ashamed of you?" he asks me.

No one hasta say it, it's pretty evident by the fact you have no pictures. "No one, I jus' know. I ain't stupid dad." I pick up the remote off the coffee table. "I was a mistake I know....but like I said s'cool."

I try not to make eye contact with him but I do, only long enough to see tears form in his eyes again. Okay maybe I went a little over board there but, I kinda hadda point.

"NO!" He says raising his voice jus' a little. "You're not a mistake......you weren't a mistake. Your mother thought it was best this way." he's a bit uneasy 'bout what he said, but I can tell he means it.

But I have other thoughts, you know. Things...they didn't haveta be this way. "Maybe you should'a tried harder to fight her keep her from goin' to Missouri." I say unable to look at him, for fear of losing it myself. He could've tried harder an' I would have never met Greg. My mom would have never met him, an' he would have never hurt me. "Obviously you really didn't want me or else you would'a tried lot harder."

Maybe this time I stepped over the line...jus' a little though. I do have a right to my own opinion. But now I'm feelin' bad 'cause I think I really hurt him. I think I hurt my dad, really bad this time. I didn't mean to, I was jus' ventin' out frustration an' anger. That's all. I wonder how come he didn't try harder, what was the reason.

"Morgan, don' think like that babe. I wanted you I really did. I tired but like I said, your mother thought it was better this way." He tells me, his voice wet with hidden tears.

"Maybe ya didn't love me...." Maybe he didn't I don' know. Was I wrong to accuse him of that, or did I have a right? Or was I being selfish? One thin' for sure was that I was hurtin' Deep down in side, my soul was cryin'. 'Cause my mom died, Greg hurt me, an' my dad I'm still tryin' to figure that one out.

"No...God no. You have no idea how much I loved ya an' still do." His voice is serious once again an' now one by one small tears roll down his cheeks, as he dries them up.

Too late I already saw. I must be a monster or somethin' I made my dad cry.

"Morgan, there hasn't been a day that's gone by where I haven't thought of you."

That makes me feel a little better 'cause least I know he does care, if only a little. I can't stand to be near him right now, knowin' that I've hurt him. Knowin' I made him cry, I wanna go to bed, an' get this day over with already. I stand up. "Where's my room...your room whatever." and grab my backpack. 'I'm tired."

"Follow me, I'll give ya some sweats to sleep in. They might be a little big, but tomorrow we'll getcha the rest of your stuff okay." He tells me leadin' me to his room.

His sweats, now this should be interesting. Seein' as how I'm lucky if I'm 100lbs an' he's what maybe 185...there 'bouts. I follow him to his room an' watch him go through his dresser pullin' out some navy blue sweat pants with NYPD written on them an' New York Yankee's shirt.

"The bathroom's to ya right. You can change in there if you want." He tells me nodding towards where the bathroom was.

I exit the room. Changin' in the bathroom might be for the best. I get dressed an' have a hard time gettin' the pants to stay on. I pull the draw string as tight as I can, an' the damn things still almost fall down. Oh well guess it's better then nothin'

I go back to his room, lookin' like his sweat pants swallowed me whole, he's smilin' all goofy like at me. It's not funny, pants this big should be a fire hazard or somethin'. If there's a fire an' I try to run out. I'm gunna trip an' kill myself.

Exhausted I crawl into the bed. I'm lovin' the extra blanket. It's cozy an' comfy. One bed never felt so good, For the first time all day I'm truly beginnin' to feel safe. Somethin' is missin' though.

I sit up lookin' 'round. "Where's my bag?" I ask him.

He walks over to the chair. "Right here Hun. Why?"

I take a deep breath, thank God. He has no idea what life would be like if I lost what was in there. "Can you.......you think..." I stop for a minuet, I'm 'bout to ask him for Co-Co bear, the bear he gave to me when I was born. An' I'm not to sure of what his reaction will be like. Here goes nothin' "Think you can open it an' give me the bear that's inside? His names' Co-Co...it's a lil' brown white bear." I cross my fingers.

He seems to be caught off guard an' I'm havin' a hard time tryin' to figure out. If that's a good thin' or a bad thin' I guess he's shocked that I kept it. Why wouldn't I?

Carefully he unzips the bag an pulls the bear out, then zips the bag back up, walkin' over to me he hands me Co-Co. "Here."

I reach for it an' pull it into him Holdin' on tightly to it, I look at him. "Thanks....for the bear. It uhm..." I'm really not to sure 'bout to say it you know, an' my voice breaks a little. "I go everywhere with it."

It's hard to read his face as he speaks. "No problem hadda get ya somethin' an' I thought that would be a great gift."

I nod an' smile ever so slightly at him as I curl up under the warm blankets. Now all he needs to do is kiss me goodnight. That's what all fathers do? Right?

But he doesn't an' I'm wonderin' why. "Sleep tight kiddo." He says to me turnin' the light off an' leavin' the room

I lay there for a few minuets, guess maybe he was scared or somethin'. So I get outta bed an' I start makin' my way into the living room. I'll give -him- a kiss goodnight.

I stop hearin' him on the phone.

Whoever he's talkin' to I can tell it's not easy for him.. F-faith.....it's.....uh it's me."

Who's Faith? An' is he cryin'?