Maurice Boscorelli switched off his shoulder radio the instant he heard his partner squawking his name over all the frequencies. He knew that he was taking a stupid risk, but he also trusted in the fact that Davis and Sully would keep his partner from following him into the school. She had other things to worry about besides his sorry ass. He approached the side door of the school, gun drawn and reassuring in his hands. He peered in through the narrow window, to a long hallway that formed a right angle corner about fifty yards away. Bosco swallowed hard. Although his instincts screamed at him that the element of surprise was his best option, he knew he had to do this nice and slow. An inexperienced person with a loaded gun in their hands was a dangerous thing, and the last thing he needed was a bullet in his forehead 'cause he jumped out from behind a coat rack. He pushed the door open and slipped inside the building, easing it closed behind him without a sound. 'Thank God for well-paid maintenance people,' he thought to himself. He passed by a display on the left hand wall, flaunting the colourful springtime paintings of young students. A cold shiver ran up his spine involuntarily. There were so many ways this situation could end, and none of them looked good. Bosco bit back his feeling of trepidation, and moved on to the first door. He pushed the door open with his hip, gun up and at the ready. He was met by silence, and after a quick look around the room, determined it was as empty as it seemed. He flicked on his radio long enough to let the others outside know his status, then continued on his way. Five classrooms later, his feeling of anxiety was beginning to lift. He was five for five; no bodies, no shots fired. All his hope came crashing down, though, when he opened the door to the sixth room. The heart wrenching sound of terrified sobbing filled his ears immediately. He crouched down on the floor, and walked forward slowly, resembling, however accidentally, a frog trying to walking on his hind legs. Bosco followed the cries, and soon came across a young teenage girl cowering underneath one of the tables that lined the back of the room. He quickly holstered his gun.

"Hey, honey, my name's Bosco, I'm a police officer. Are you alright?"

Her breathing only intensified, the ripping sound of hyperventilating offending to his ears. He reached for her hand, and the poor girl didn't protest when he held it gently between his. "Look, sweetheart, you're safe with me, but we have to get you out of here, alright?"

She managed to slow her breathing, and relax long enough to nod. He helped her out from under the table, and she stood weakly, clinging desperately to his arm.

"What's your name?"he asked, fingering the switch on his radio.

She took a few deep breaths, and Bosco realized that had he been fifteen years younger, and this been a better day, she would've stolen his heart. "Tracy,"she managed to get out.

Bosco nodded his appreciation. "Great. Okay, Tracy, I need to ask you some questions real quick. Do you know how many people have guns?"

His mention of the loaded weapons seemed to take away what little sanity she had left. Her hyperventilating returned, and Bosco had to snake an arm around her waist to hold her up. "Tracy,"he said, his voice commanding as he gently shook her. "I need your help here, okay? Can you help me?"

For a long moment, it appeared as if she was incapable of answering him, and that he had wasted his time. But then quite abruptly, her breathing slowed, and her green eyes cleared up.

"I saw one,"she said, her voice surprisingly even. "There might be more, though."

He nodded. "That's great, sweetie. Thank you. Now I'm gonna need you to do one more thing for me. I'm gonna call my partner on my radio, and have her meet you at the door, okay? So we're gonna leave this room, I'm gonna cover you, and you're gonna run as fast and as quiet as you can out the back door, alright? Faith will meet you out there and keep you safe."

She held his gaze for a long moment, eyes wide at the situation that lay before. Then she nodded stiffly, and murmured her thanks as he helped her over to the door. He radioed his partner quickly, telling her to meet Tracy by the back doors and to get her fixed up. Then he opened the door a crack, stuck his head out, then turned to the young girl again. "You understand what to do?"

When she nodded her affirmation, he smiled. "Alright. You did good, sweetheart. I'll see you out there."

With those final words to her, he stepped out into the hall, gun up and elbows locked, then barked one single word at her. "Run."

And run she did. Bosco turned for a split second to watch her move, with long graceful strides, looking more like a gazelle then a frightened highschool student. 'Thank God,'he thought. He made sure she made it outside alright, then moved on down the hallway. On the right hand side was the school's administrative office, and after a quick survey, Bosco realized it had been long deserted. Directly ahead of him was set of double doors with narrow rectangular windows in the both doors. A sign on the wall beside announced it as the library. He crept towards the tiny windows, and risked a peek inside. The first thing he noticed in the bright, blue carpeted room was several bodies littering the floor, resting in pools of blood. He viciously fought the urge to knock the door in, repeating the mantra, 'Do what Faith would do,' in his mind. After a moment of silent thought, he smirked. 'Oh, screw it. Faith would never have turned off her radio, and ignored her superior officer like that.' He opened the door on the right slowly, again thanking the fact that the hinges were kept well oiled. The school's expansive library stretched out before him. On the left was the checkout counter, and behind it, a series of offices that Bosco was not looking forward to searching. On the right the wall was lined with individual desks, naturally, all empty. Directly ahead the floor was sunken in several steps, and filled with state of the art computers. Beyond that, the room was filled with lines of bookshelves and an emergency exit. With a grim set to his mouth, Bosco approached the group of offices. After a quick ten minute search, all he came up with was the fact that the librarians appeared to like Krispy Kreme donuts. He moved further into the room, and with a sharp intake of air, realized he had nearly tripped over the first body.

"Dammit!"he hissed, crouching easily beside the young boy. He bled from a gaping hole in the back of his skull, and Bosco knew with a turning stomach that there was nothing that could be done. He stayed beside the young boy for a minute, clenching his jaw shut against the fury that was building. It was beyond his comprehension why someone would take a gun to school. The startling results of studies done about bullying did nothing to change his mind. Bosco was a firm believer in the though that everything you do is because you want to. He didn't cop out behind excuses about bullies, and teasing. He rose again, and continued forward, down in the pit of the room. There he found another body, bleeding profusely from a shot to the leg. This one appeared to be a librarian, a kind looking old lady with short gray hair. She sobbed softly into the carpet, and Bosco could barely make out her prayers. He put his hand gently on her shoulder, and said softly, "Ma'am, I'm NYPD. I'm gonna help you, alright?"

Her eyes opened wide, and she turned to look at him with wide brown eyes. "You're the answer to my prayers,"she exclaimed, then seemed to relax back onto the floor. Bosco swallowed hard. He was by no means a medic, but he knew bad gun shot wounds when he saw one. It was obvious to even his untrained eye that a major artery had been nicked, the blood very nearly pouring from the hole in her leg. He gently untied the scarf from around her neck, and wrapped it tightly around her leg.

"You hold tight, ma'am,"he whispered. "I'm gonna get you help as soon as I can."

He stood again, holding his gun tightly despite the trembling that plagued his hands. 'Get a hold on yourself, Maurice,'he heard his father's voice command in his head. 'What are you, a woman? You afraid of a little blood?' He shook his head violently, and looked around the room with a practiced critical eye. Now was not the time to let the memory of his abusive father guide his decisions. He neared the back wall of the library, and saw that it was lined with desks much like the other wall. Much to his surprise, a young man was sitting at one the desks, his hands folded neatly in front of him. Bosco's immediate thought was that he needed help, shock was a dangerous thing. He hurried towards the boy, and said, "hey, kid, are you alright? Do you need help?"

The boy pivoted slowly in his chair, and Bosco realized with a start that there was a gun resting in the kid's lap. His own weapon was immediately up and trained on the student. "You did this? Did you do all this shooting?"

The boy looked at the officer with wide green eyes, looking almost comical in his expression. A small amount of blood was splattered on his forehead, the tips of his blond hair coated in it. Bosco had to fight the urge to gag.

"Look, kid, I don't want to shoot you. Put the gun down. It's over."

The boy merely shook his head. "It's never over,"he said softly, almost sadly. "It never ends. It goes on forever and ever and ever."

'Wacko.' Bosco tightened his grip on his gun. "No, you're wrong. It does end. Right here and right now. Slide the gun over to me, and it'll end."

Again, he shook his head slowly. Then, much to the young officer's surprise, he started to cry. Not great, wracking sobs like one would've expected, but silent tears running trails down his cheeks, rivelets of clear liquid through the bright red of blood.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." He bent forward, rocking back and forth on the plastic chair.

Bosco's heart beat like a battering ram against the inside of his ribs. This kid was obviously unstable. It became clear to him then that conventional Boscorelli methods weren't worth spit.

"You shot those people,"he said quietly. "It's good you're sorry, because it was your fault, and now you're gonna have to pay the consequences."

The boy ceased his rocking, and looked up at Bosco with impossibly wide eyes. "I'm sorry,"he said again, but this time, Bosco understood with a chill that he was apologizing to him, not at him. He noticed the boy's eyes flick to spot behind him, and as he spun around with his gun up, he knew that he wasn't fast enough. The ear popping yet achingly familiar crack of the hang gun going of filled the small library, reverberating off the walls and ceiling. Bosco ducked hard to the left, but as was his life story, he just wasn't quick enough. White hot pain tore through his right shoulder, the force of the shot spinning his body as he fell to the ground. He cursed out loud as his head snapped back and his gun bounced out of his know useless hand. 'Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit...'

A/N: I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You guys have no idea who much it is appreciated...oh wait, scratch that. I'm pretty sure you all do. Thanks again, though. I've written for a few different universes, and Third Watch is definitely the best. Anyways, I hope you guys like this one. Let me know. One of my favourite Bosco moments is in the episode where he and Faith are hunting for that doctor's (the one from ER) niece. I love the scene where Bosco jumps through the window and tackles the guy. I tried to base his interaction with the girl he found in the classroom, on the part where he picks up little Suzie, and calls her honey. My, word, that guy is gorgeous. Anyways, sorry for the cliff hanger. Please review!