A Hopeless Wound (5/?)

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A/N: Thank you, thank you , thank you! You guys are the best... :) Your amazing feedback is the force that keeps me writing, and I really appreciate it. One of the compliments I've received is that my stories are believable, and that my charaters act like they would do on the 'real' show. Well, that's the best thing you could've told me, because that's exactly what I want to achieve.

Speaking about that, thirdwatchfanatic, you have nothing to worry about. I write my characters just like I think they'd behave on the show, so no Bosco/Faith romance. As for Fred, I don't really like the guy, but you're gonna see him in one of the next chapters, and he won't be a jerk. *lol*

Enjoy!

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Chapter five

***

"You started the coffee?" Ty asked his friend and FDNY Paramedic Carlos as he walked into the kitchen of the apartment they shared.

"Nope. I just woke up." The young man replied as he grabbed a box of cereals and started to pour them into his bowl.

"Great."

"You were late tonight. Hot date?"

Davis shook his head. "No, man, I... Nevermind, I gotta go."

"Hey, why are you in such a hurry?"

"I uh... I promised Bosco I'd stop by at the hospital before the shift. His mother was shot last night."

"Oh." Carlos' face grew suddenly serious. "I just heard it on the news."

"Heard what?"

"About the shooting. Must be hard to lose a parent like that." He shrugged. Not that I'll ever know.

Ty's eyes widened. "She died?"

"That's what they said."

"Damn. Okay, I... I'll see you later, Carlos." He picked his duffle bag off the floor and headed for the door.

"Later." His friend repeated, swallowing a mouthful of cereal.

He'd just gotten into the car and was about to turn on the ignition when his cell phone started to ring.

"Yeah. Hey, Sul... Yeah, I know... No, I don't think it's a good idea... Well, you know Bosco, he's not one to show his feelings, but I don't think he's doing too good... Listen, I'm on my way to the hospital now... Yeah, yeah, I'll tell him. See you later, Sul."

Ty exhaled loudly and pulled away from the curb. It wouldn't be easy, but he was determined to help his friend in any way he could.

***

Faith stepped out of the doctor's office and stared at the medical release form in her hand.

Half an hour ago, the thought of just holding the piece of paper was enough to put a smile on her face, but with Bosco's words still echoing in her head, her good mood was now only a distant memory.

Her chest was tight, and she felt a sadness tugging at her heart that she couldn't quite shake.

Had he felt the same way when she'd told him to go away?

She hesitantly glanced around, but couldn't see him anywhere. He'd probably either left or was still in the room with his mom.

Seeing him again had awakened feelings she'd kept buried too long, feelings that refused to be ignored, but as much as she wanted to talk to him again and try to explain her reasons, she decided to respect his wishes, at least for now. He was already suffering enough, she didn't need to upset him further.

Faith knew Bosco well enough to understand that he targeted his own feelings where he could tolerate them. Anger was something he was used to dealing with but in this case, it was also a call for help. A part of him wanted to die, or maybe that part already had. In both cases, he desperately needed someone to lean on.

He wasn't looking for apologies or explanations, he just needed her to understand his pain and help him get through this. The rest would come later.

Wondering just how much they still had to offer to each other, she made her way outside and hailed a cab to the precinct.

Even the thought of going back to work wasn't appealing anymore.

***

"You sure you're up to this, man?"

Davis glanced worriedly at Bosco but followed him out of the car.

He'd arrived at the hospital in time to witness him almost get into a fight with an unwary orderly who'd tried to move his mother's body down to the morgue just because he needed to clean the room.

It had taken Ty and two doctors to get him off the man, other than the promise that no one would try to move her again until the guys from the funeral home showed up.

After calling Swersky to tell him that he was probably going to be late for work, he'd managed to calm Bosco down and suggest that he'd take a shower and changed his bloody clothes. He'd also offered to take him to his apartment, but Bosco had insisted that he'd drive him to his place.

As he watched his friend's trembling hands fumble with the keys, Ty couldn't help but think that this was a really bad idea, but he didn't say a word.

A few moments later, they ducked under the yellow 'crime scene' tape that their fellow officers had put on the doorframe and stepped inside.

The detectives were still gathering evidence and weren't thrilled to let them in, but Davis had assured that it would only be a minute and that nothing would be disturbed.

Bosco stood in the living room, unable to move, for the longest time as his gaze traveled from his mother's coat still hung on the rack to the couch where they'd had their last conversation.

Fresh tears started to well up in his eyes and he squeezed them shut, lowering his head and letting out a small cry.

Ty was leaning against the door, struggling with his own demons. His father's death had affected him in a lot of ways, but he wasn't expecting to feel this bad after so many years.

Pushing the memories aside, he took a deep breath and focused his attention back to Bosco. He'd never been to his apartment before and wasn't sure where the shooting had taken place, but his friend already looked on the verge of a breakdown and he thought he should try and get him out of there before he really had one.

"Maybe you should stay here, you know. I can grab your clothes and take you back to my place."

"No, I'm fi..." his voice trailed off. He wasn't even close to being fine, and Davis had seen enough to know that. "I can do this."

"Okay."

Dragging a hand through his hair, Bosco started to walk toward the bedroom.

With each step, he felt a growing sense of uneasiness settle within him and swallowed hard, but kept moving.

It was only when he found himself staring at the shattered glass and the pool of blood staining the floor that a thought came to mind, something he'd filed away because it just hurt too much to think about it.

She's dead because of me.

Someone had fired a shot through -his- bedroom window. -He- was the one they'd wanted to kill, his mother had just happened to be in the way.

The realization hit him like a punch to the stomach and he collapsed on the edge of the bed, struggling to breathe.

"Bos, you okay?"

His heart was beating so hard he felt suffocated.

I need air.

Rising to his feet, he staggered to the window and inhaled deeply, hoping the cool air would help him regain control of his body. He blinked a couple times to clear his vision and gazed blindly at the world outside, as if daring the man who'd just destroyed his life to try again and finish the job.

"Wanna talk about it?"

The dizziness gradually cleared away and he was able to think again.

He shook his head. "There's nothing to talk about, Davis. She's dead. End of story."

"I've been there, remember? I know how you feel, and I'm here to help."

Bosco nodded. In some remote part of his mind, he knew that was true and should bring him comfort, but right now all he could think was that he'd caused his mother's death.

'What good am I living if you're dead?'

She'd thought her life wouldn't be worth if he died before her, but what she didn't know was that it went both ways. He'd just have to live with it a little longer.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

He turned around and met Davis' concerned eyes. His friend was right. He needed to leave.

Walking over to the closet, he grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater, then moved to the dresser where he took a couple clean shirts and underwear and stuffed everything into a bag.

"I'm ready."

***

"Marks! Get your ass over here. You got a call."

Vernon's lips twisted into a smile and he sat up on the bench where he'd been working out.

"A call?" he asked, faking a surprised tone. "I'm not expecting any calls."

The guard shrugged. "Looks like a family emergency. Now move before I lose my patience with you."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming."

Shuffling over to where the guard was standing, he let the man cuff him.

"Let's go."

He was expecting to hear that his problem had been solved and that Boscorelli was dead, but his brother's words told him a totally different story. His surprise was so genuine that the guard actually believed something horrible had happened to a member of his family.

"He WHAT?" Vernon's hand tightened on the phone.

"I'm sorry, man. I..."

"Son of a bitch! What did I tell you, huh? No mistakes!" He struggled to keep his anger in check. "I trusted you, J. I fucking trusted you!"

"I know, but..." On the other end of the line, Jermaine wiped the sweat off his face while Leonard solemnly shook his head. "Calm down, alright? It's not as bad as it seems."

Vernon's free hand curled into a fist. "Not bad? You fucking ruined everything!"

"Wait, wait. I'll fix it, okay?"

"You're damn right you're gonna fix it!" He rubbed his temple, trying to come up with some kind of plan. "Now keep your trap shut and listen to me, J. You keep an eye on the cop's house. You see him, you follow him, you understand? And the minute he's alone you blow his fucking head off!" he hissed, looking over his shoulder at the uniformed officer standing behind him.

"You got it, man. We'll take care of it. We will."

"You screw this one I'm gonna rip YOUR head off, J. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear, bro."

"Find him." Vernon's knuckles were white as he hung up the phone.

Find him and kill him.

***

Bosco walked out of the apartment, holding the duffel bag in his hand.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't see his brother trade menacingly toward him, his face a mask of anger, until it was too late.

"What the hell were you waiting for?" The young man yelled as his arms sprung forward and his palms roughly shoved him back against the wall. "How long was it gonna take before you decided to call and tell me that my mother's DEAD?"

Bosco dropped the bag, startled, and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I had to hear it from the fucking news, Mo! How do you think that made me feel?"

"What do you care?" he whispered darkly as he glared at him.

"What do I ca... Son of a bitch!" Mikey lunged at him, sending them both sprawling to the ground in the middle of the hallway.

Davis, who'd just closed the door to the apartment, turned around at the sound of the man's voice and watched as his fist connected with Bosco's face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell's going on here? Knock it off, guys!" He said as he tried to separate them. He grabbed Mikey and hauled him up to a standing position. "Calm down, alright? Both of you!"

An awkward silence hung over them for a moment.

Bosco's hand reached for the wall and he slowly stood up, wiping the blood off his lips while Mikey leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Persuaded that the two brothers weren't going to get into another fight anytime soon, Ty took a step back and followed the rest of the conversation from a safe distance.

"What the hell happened, Maurice?" Mikey angrily asked.

Bosco lowered his gaze as another lump formed in his throat. "Someone fired a shot through my window and she got hit."

"Yeah, I heard that, but why was she here?"

"I... I was at the bar, and offered to give her a ride."

"Then why didn't you take her home?" Mikey's voice rose. His brother's behaviour was uncharacteristically quiet, and he didn't know how to deal with that so he let his anger get the better of him.

"I did, but the furnace wasn't working so I thought I'd bring her here."

"Great. Just great." The young man raked a hand through his hair as he paced back and forth. "He thought he'd bring her here... Always trying to fix everything, right? A real hero..." He stopped and looked him straight in the eyes. "You got her killed!"

"You whiny little bastard!" Bosco's hand curled around his brother's throat before Davis even had a chance to move. "Don't you ever talk to me like that again!" He warned, his gaze dark. "Ever! You never cared about us, all you cared about were those damn drugs! You caused her nothing but pain so don't you dare blame me for what happened!"

Mikey's eyes went wide with fear and he put his hands up in surrender, glancing at Davis out of the corner of his eye.

"Bos, it's okay." Ty said as he touched his arm. "He didn't mean that." He turned to look at Mikey. "You didn't mean that, right?"

The young man nodded.

"Let him go."

Bosco slowly released the grip on his brother's throat.

"It's okay, man."

"Whatever." Mikey muttered under his breath as he glared at him one last time and walked away.

TBC...