Title: Non Omnis Moriar [Latin: "Not all of me will die"- Horace]
Author: Liquid Thalassa
E-Mail: Liquidthalassa@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst/Supernatural
Disclaimer: The characters of Third Watch belong to John Wells and Warner Brothers.
A/N: Ok, so this is my first Third Watch character death fic ever- whoo-hoo! Just kidding. It's told in a different point of view...I'm sure you guys will figure it out! Hopefully it's interesting and not a bore; this is the most I've written at one time in a long time! I plan of having 3 parts at least…as always let me know your thoughts…especially with this one! Thanks. :0)
**
Prologue:
Hindsight
I thought I was invincible.
I thought I was God.
Nothing could stop me, nothing could bring me down.
I thought wrong.
Dead wrong.
Two shots was all it took.
Two shots fired in the span of a second marked me for Death.
Who would've thought, certainly not I.
Perhaps that was my downfall.
I thought I was strong. Powerful. Quick.
I thought I could handle myself. I thought I could handle my own.
I thought…I thought…I thought…
Nothing can change what happened.
This was my Fate.
Nothing can be done.
Not now.
I'm gone.
Dead.
**
Part One:
Ante Mortem [Latin: Before Death]
I remember that day, like I remember nothing else. The memory burns, imprinted on my mind like an unwanted tattoo. Even now, even after I can't shake it…
There wasn't anything different about that day, not really. It started out like any other.
I remember lying in my bed, intertwined in the soft navy blue flannel sheets, my eyes still closed against the faint light streaming in from my broken Venetian blinds. My alarm let out another shrill cry from the nightstand to my left. Stupid fricken thing, I thought rolling over and slamming the snooze. I opened my eyes, still blurry and out of focus and read the digital readout. 9:30 am. Sighing I told myself only a few more minutes. And I let my mind drifted back to the place of dreams, well half dreams that is. Shifty, foggy images flooded my mind, some of them too distant for me to understand, some of them clearer. But all was lost with the cry to the alarm. I reached out and flicked the off button. I forced myself to sit up, feeling a rush of blood escape my head leaving my dizzy. I blinked, looking around my cluttered room. I was never one for immaculate neatness. When I came home I usually just took my clothes off and left them where they were, either rushing to shower or bed. I peeled off the comforting sheets and got up. Work was five and a half hours away. There was plenty of time to shower and relax…
I looked at my clock, still in the process of fixing my hair and makeup. I wasn't one for vanity but I believed it looking your best. It was 12:30 pm. I remember looking in the mirror and smiling. I remember actually being happy to go to work, which if anything was odd. Don't get me wrong, I loved my job. I lived for it. It was my life…and my downfall. But I was never one to be the favorite. People talked; about my attitude, about my latest antics. They called me a bitch, reckless, careless, hotheaded, cold…and I was. I had to be. I had to keep that front up. It was my defense, defense against getting hurt, a defense against the perils of the job. I did what I had to do, I did what I felt- and thought- was right. And that, that distanced myself from everyone else. Was I a good Cop? A good Sergeant? I like to think so. I got things done. I caught the bad guys. I paid my dues. But most of the time, especially after Lettie died I wasn't too eager to go to work, but today I was…today I was. Ironic huh?
So after my hair and makeup were in order I went to my closet, looking for an outfit. I was off patrol and back up in Anti-Crime. I was back in the game, back where I belonged and worked so hard to rise to. I chose a simple pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. After all it wasn't the clothes that mattered. My fingers brushed past my uniform. I called it a costume once. I was half serious. Some part of me hated that uniform, the strictness, the weight it carried…and another part of me, well I respected it. But, now, after gaining so much freedom it felt like a punishment, an insult to wear in again. To be back on the war filled street doing a dangerous and thankless job…it wasn't my idea of fun. Wearing the bag was a double edged sword. Either those jackasses hate us, called us names and gave us shit or they groveled at out feet, pleading for action and help…Sometimes, now I wonder if everything would've been different if I was in uniform, it everything would turn out the same…I dressed quickly knowing I had to leave, making sure my vest was on correctly. Grabbing my gun I holstered it in my holster and grabbed my set of handcuffs. I got my badge from the kitchen counter. The gold glinted off the midday light, causing it to twinkle. I put it around my next and zipped up my navy blue NYPD sweat jacket and looked around. Doing one last check I made sure everything was in order and left, plucking my car keys out of my purse.
If I had known that would be the last time I saw my place, my home; I just might have taken the time to enjoy it. It was my refuge, my safe place…and at times my prison. I just might have taken the time to look at the worn pictures of Lettie and I- younger, happy, smiling. I might have looked out the window and taken in the sight of the bustling city. I might have done a lot of things. But I had no idea…Closing the door with a thud I walked down the hall, not even looking back.
The drive was, like always a hassle. Cars everywhere, horns honking, crazy people on the street corners and in cars. I signed and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel to a repetitive tune. After narrowly missing a fender bender I arrived at the House with 20 minutes to spare.
I remember seeing Boscorelli in the distance walking into the station, still in his plain clothes, duffle back over his shoulder. I missed him…and what we shared. He was the only one I trusted, that I thought understood me. The real me, that is. Great minds thought alike and Bosco and I were quite alike. I thought he would understand me and my plans. I thought he would get it…but he didn't trust me, he brought her in to the picture. Her: Faith. She still pisses me off. If it wasn't for her…well perhaps everything would be different. No, everything would be different, no perhaps about it. I channeled my anger and hate onto her, I blamed her. Truth is I should have blamed myself.
I got out of my car and walked into the 5-5. The first thing I saw was Lieu at the main desk. He looked up at me.
"Sergeant." He said by greeting.
I nodded my head and acknowledgement. "Hey Lieu."
"You're here early."
I smiled slightly. "Yeah, I guess so."
I started to walk past him. "Maritza." He said. "Keep up the good work."
I just looked back at him; he winked and turned back to his papers.
If I said no one liked me I was wrong. Lieu seemed to be a fan. It was like no matter what I did he was able to forgive me. He, if anyone thought I was a good cop. I never told him, thank you for that. For his care and support, distant but still there.
I made my way into the locker room. I don't know why, I was already dressed. The halls were filled with officers from the previous shift and support personnel. Ringing phones, the sound of computer keys being typed and the occasional yelling of a criminal in the holding cells reminded me I was home. The locker room was quiet save for the slight rustling of another person. Bosco. I remember the slight feeling apprehension as I neared his locker. He was getting dressed, putting on his vest, making sure the Velcro strips were in place. He didn't look up at first. I had no idea what I was doing really. What I was trying to accomplish.
"Hey." I said, placing a smile on my face.
He looked up, meeting my eyes. I always loved his eyes. So blue, so clear and truthful. His expression was calm, giving nothing away. I remember wondering what he thought of me, what he truly thought that is. Did he hate me? I reassured myself that he didn't, Bosco was a good man, hate didn't seem like something he would do.
"Hey." He replied in an even tone. "What are you doing here?"
I wanted to tell him everything, but I couldn't. It wasn't the time or place. And I wasn't sure he wanted to hear it…
"Uh, I just came to fix my hair." I said lamely and walked over to the dirty water speckle stained mirror. I busied myself with moving a strand here and a strand there, all the while looking at him. No doubt sensing my eyes he looked at me in the mirror.
"You look fine." He said watching my reflection, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
I turned around and looked at him. "Thank you." I said and began to walk away.
He nodded and began putting on his belt. Sully and Davis came through the door followed by Monroe, laughing about something. I gave him one last look and walked out. There was so much I wanted- no need to say, to tell him…so much.
I knew I didn't belong there, in the locker room, on some level I knew they didn't want me there. I sighed and made my way up the stairs- there were thirty, I counted long ago- to Anti-Crime.
My desk was clean, devoid of anything personal. No pictures, no personal touches. That was how I liked it. A few files and reports lay scattered on the top from the shift before. I gathered them and placed them in a pile. I sat down and took in my empire, my kingdom. I worked hard to get here. Sacrificed a lot. Too much, I realize now. Too much. The sound of Officer Carter interrupted my thoughts.
"Sergeant?" He said hesitantly.
I looked up. "Yes?" I said back to my usual self.
"Day shift got a tip on a drug house, they were going to do a bust but the warrant didn't come in time. They were pissed but wanted us to do it. Rielly said better Anti-Crime then some piss-ant patrol officers."
I nodded my head in understanding and got out of my seat. This was what I lived for. This and nothing else.
"We have the warrant now right?" I asked.
"Yeah, signed and ready to go."
"Good…that's good." I paused. "We got all the specs right? I don't want any shit happening. Nothings worse then going in there blind." I said looking him in the eyes.
"We got everything. It's only a matter of when." He replied.
I remained silent thinking. "Lieu's been notified?"
"Yup, up to date."
"Ok, this is what I want you to do. Gather some extra man power, notify Haz-Mat to be on standby, let ESU know about the bust…We'll go at 4:00. Got it?"
He nodded and walked out.
I left the confines of ACU and began to get everything in order…
I felt no apprehension, no worry only the excitement of doing my job, the thrill that every cop seeks, the thrill that clouded my mind and lead to my end.
Four o'clock came quicker than I realized. I was sitting in my unmarked cruiser, ignition off starting at the house in the foreground. I noted nothing out of the ordinary outside. It was just like every crappy, wore down house that littered the block. Next to me in silence sat Officer Carter. I didn't know him that well and I remember wishing it was Boscorelli who was there. But no, he was riding with Monroe…I looked over at Carter. He was young, calm, a good cop. Unlike me he had no demerits in his file, no bad appendages attached to his name except working with me. But I did that. Taint people. Hurt them. It was my folly. I looked at the house once more. No one was supposed to be there. It was suppose to be easy. In, out and on with our jobs. If I would have known I might have waited a little longer, paid a little more attention before going in there guns blazing, mind foggy with adrenaline. But that was me. I thought I was invincible, remember?
I gave Carter a look, he nodded. It was time. Getting out of the car I discretely pulled out my radio, telling Central that we were executing the bust and to keep priority of our frequency. Central crackled back with a 10-4 and followed by two other officers, Carter and I neared the house.
My heart pounded as I knocked on the door. "This is the Police. We have a warrant." I said against it. It was the law to announce ourselves. There was no reply. Guns drawn I looked at the other officers, telling them I was going in and to cover me. They nodded and got into position. I tried the door, it opened effortlessly. You'd be surprised how many people left their doors unlocked; I didn't think anything of it.
I entered the home, clinging to the walls, gun aimed and ready, eyes scanning.
"This is the Police. We have a warrant. If there is anyone here you better come out with your hands up." I yelled, inching along the wall, Carter close behind.
"We have gained access. Tell the other's to proceed." I said into the radio.
I looked around, taking in the clutter and disarray. I looked at Carter and told him I was going to look upstairs.
"You want me to come?" He asked.
I shook my head. "No. I can handle it." I told him. "Wait for the others to inventory and process the scene."
And without a thought I began my ascent up the dirt stained carpet stairs, careful not to make a sound. I knew what I was doing- or at least I thought I did. This was something I've done so many times it was almost second nature…I kept to the walls, scanning, checking, listening. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. There was only one room, the door was ajar, a bedroom I figured and I headed there. I kicked the door with my foot and stood to the side, looking into the door jam to see. Nothing. A rumpled bed, beer bottles, trash and debris.
"Police." I said quietly yet firmly.
No answer. I figured the place was empty, just like it was suppose to be. Downstairs I could hear talking and movement of other officers. I entered the room, looking for anything telling, anything that could help the case and bust.
I turned my back to the room, thinking I heard my name being called. That was one of my many mistakes.
I heard a crackling of something behind me, I turned instantly, eyes wide.
There was a man, hairy, dirty, haggard, most likely high on something pointing a gun at me.
"Put the gun down now!" I said. "I'm a police officer!"
I pulled out my radio with my free hand, never taking my eyes or gun off him.
"Carter, someone get your asses up here! We got someone." She belted out.
Seconds later I heard footsteps behind me.
"Sergeant?" It was Carter.
"He's got a gun." I told him and I could hear him upholster his own.
"Put the gun down now, Sir. There are half a dozen cops downstairs. There's no way out." I told to the man. "Just give up before someone gets hurt."
"No…No…I can't go back. I'm not going back." He said in a mumble, waving his gun as he talked.
"Sir!" I said curtly. "Put the fucking gun down now or I'll have to shoot."
He paused and looked at me, his eyes distant and wild. I should have known I should have seen it coming…
I didn't have time to react. I didn't have time to fire. It happened so quickly. In a blink of an eye. I felt the bullet rip through the flesh of my thigh, the pain white hot and lancing. I staggered backwards. Eyes and mind confused and blurry. Fear fogging my instincts. I heard Carter yelling, desperation and fear in his voice. I heard another gunshot and felt a thud of force pierce the area of my left shoulder. Everything stilled. I gasped in utter pain and slid against the door, giving Carter a clear view of the man. He fired not pausing until all his bullets were out. My heart hurt, my lungs ached. I couldn't see clearly.
Carter kneeled down to me, tapping my cheeks. It felt odd, distant. His voice was an echo.
I remember hearing frantic yells and curt orders of backup.
Ten-Thirteen…Ten-Thirteen…officer down…officer down…shots fired…shots fired…
I tried to stand up but couldn't. I couldn't move…I couldn't even try. The pain…god, the pain was go great…I vaguely felt tears roll down my face, I couldn't stop them.
An officer, I didn't recognize him, kneeled beside me and looked in my eyes.
"You're going to be alright." He said. "The Medics are on the way…just hold on…"
I thought I nodded.
"Is there anything- anyone you want us to call?"
Eternity seemed to pass before I could find my voice. "Boscorelli…Bosco…."
He nodded and left my field of vision.
I think I knew then. I know I was going to die. I felt my heart ever so slowly, laboriously try to pump. In my palms I felt the sticky warm wetness of blood. My blood. It was everywhere. I could feel it leak down my chest…
Someone took a towel and pressed it against my leg and another against my chest. I watched them thankful but unable to be of much help.
Someone was talking to me…I didn't know what they were saying; I couldn't understand their garbled words. I remember thinking, so this was it. This was how I was going to die. The thought saddened me but deep down I was at peace. If I were to die there was no better way then on duty, doing what I loved and devoted so much of myself doing.
It felt like forever till the medics came…Kim and Carlos…I don't remember what they did or said, I was half gone by then, the darkness swirling in my mind, threatening to take hold.
They lifted me up onto a stretcher, working quickly and frantically. Shoving IVs in and checking my stats.
"Her BP is low…pulse thready…cardiac arrest if you don't hurry…hit the femoral artery…lots of blood…" Someone, I think it was Kim said.
Carter helped them carry me down the stairs. I saw the other officers, double the amount then before clustered watching, waiting, desperate to help a fallen sister.
I thought he wasn't going to come. I thought he wouldn't care but rushing up to me I saw his face. His blue eyes.
"Bosco…" I mumbled.
"Shhh…" He said keeping at my side with the quick pace Kim and Carlos set.
I groped for his hand, and felt his warm grasp.
"I'm so sorry…" I began to say in a whisper. He had to lean closer to hear me.
"Don't." He said firmly. "Don't talk like that, Ritza."
"Bosco…" I said coughing. "I love you…I'm so sorry…I never meant….love you…"
He froze, his eyes turning liquidly. "I-I forgive you, Ritza…" He said quietly.
"We gotta go!" Someone yelled. "She's not going to make it."
I felt Bosco's hand slip from mine, saw his eyes…they were the last things I remember. The last thing…I don't know what happened…I just felt…at peace. A sense of warmth washed over me and like a long day on the streets I longed to close my eyes…I longed to sleep…
End of "Part One: Ante Mortem" stay tuned for "Part 2: Post Mortem"…
**
A/N: So what d you all think? Good, bad? I hope it wasn't too boring or anything! Cause that would totally suck! I've never done a Character-Death fic and I wanted to, it was either Bosco or Cruz…and there are far too many Bosco deaths so I decided on Cruz. I wanted to do something different, tell it differently. Oh, I made Carter up, in case you were confused or something. Yeah, just let me know what you think…I'm already writing Part 2 so look out for that! Oh, any errors- forgive me, I read though it two times and tried to find them all but I might've missed some! :0) -Lynne
