A Hopeless Wound (12/?)

***

Author's note: Okay guys, here's another one. We're slowly nearing the end of this story, and although I don't really like to think about it, I seriously need a break! *lol*

I know a few of you found it weird to see Cruz so focused on finding Bosco (something you'll see in this chapter too), but I'm pretty sure that that's exactly how she'd behave if something happened to him. Deep down, and I mean REALLY down, I think she's got feelings. This does NOT mean I like the character, I'm just cutting her some slack. ;)

Oh, and btw, this is NOT a Bosco/Faith or a Bosco/Cruz shipper story. My fics tend to be close to the 'real' TW world, and I don't see any of it happening any time soon.

This said, enjoy the chapter! :)

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Chapter twelve

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Leonard woke up ad instinctively brought his hand up to rub his sore jaw.

He blinked a couple times to clear his vision and slowly sat up. Although the drug had now worn off completely, it took him a moment to recall exactly what had happened and why he was sitting on the pavement.

The cop had knocked him out. He'd freed himself from the ropes and had gone after him, threatening to kill him and...

Fear suddenly washed over him as he pushed himself off the floor and called his brother's name. "J?"

Eyes frantically searching around the room, he turned to his left and felt his heart freeze in his chest. Jermaine was lying on its side on the dark brown tile, his back to him, one hand stretched upward over his head as if he was reaching out to someone.

"J?"

Swallowing down hard, Leonard took a couple steps forward and crouched down in front of him. "Come on, man. Wake up."

As he turned his brother's still form over, he saw the blood soaking the young man's shirt and the knife resting a few feet from him.

"Shit..."

Tears welled up in his eyes. He was no doctor, but living on the street he'd seen plenty of friends die like this. It was inevitable after all. When you're a young boy in Spanish Harlem, your fate is either prison or a box. There's not much you can do about it.

Hands still gripping the bloodied shirt, shoulders slumped in defeat, Leonard bowed his head and gave in to the tears. With Vernon facing a life sentence and Jermaine dead, he was completely alone now.

The thought sent a rush of panic course through his body and his heart started to pound so loudly it felt as if it would jump right out of his chest.

He was scared. Totally and completely frightened.

What am I gonna do now?

If the cop had called for help like he probably had, the place would be swarming with uniforms in a matter of minutes. He needed to leave.

Glancing at his brother one last time, Leonard wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and rose to his feet, heading for the door.

The harsh cold stung his face as he stepped outside. He roughly stuffed his hands into his pockets and tucked his chin inward, concentrating on keeping his head down and walking at a casual pace.

A few nervous seconds passed, his anxiety growing as he moved and listened to the crunch of his feet on the snow-covered ground.

He was about to cut through a narrow alleyway and disappear from the main road when he was startled by the sound of tires screeching.

The hair prickled up on his flesh and he froze for a second, debating whether or not to look over his shoulder at the car that had just stopped by the curb. Eventually, he chose to keep going.

His decision proved to be the wrong one. He heard footsteps drawing closer behind him and realized that whoever had been driving the vehicle was now following him.

"Hey, you! Stop!" A female voice called.

Leonard turned around and waved her off, then resumed walking.

"I said stop!" The woman called again.

Seconds later, he felt a hand grab his forearm.

"What part of 'stop' did you not understand?"

He glared at her, still unsure if he should consider her a threat or not.

"What's your rush, huh? Am I keeping you from something here?"

"No, I... I just..."

"Good. Wouldn't want to get in your way, Leonard."

A bead of cold sweat trickled down his temple. How in hell did this woman know his name? He studied her Latin features for a moment, struggling to remember if he'd seen her before.

"Who are you?"

She reached behind her back and in one swift move her hand came out from under her jacket with a gun. "Sergeant Cruz, NYPD." She said, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him forward. "Where's your brother?"

Leonard felt his stomach tighten.

"He's... he's not here." He replied uncomfortably, taking in a deep breath and watching it stream from his mouth in a small, white could of steam.

"He's not. Then why don't you tell me where I can find him?"

"What you want?" He half-yelled. His dark eyes were frantic, almost desperate. He just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?

"I'm the one who asks the questions here!"

"Alright, alright!"

"Now I want you to show me where your brother is."

"I..." He swallowed hard, sweat still beading his forehead.

"NOW."

Leonard glanced nervously toward the street, looking for salvation or even some kind of diversion he could take advantage of, but in the early morning hours they seemed to be the only people around.

A dog barked in the distance, probably demanding attention, its insistent cry the only sound echoing through the deserted street.

"I don't know where he is." He lied.

Cruz pressed the gun into the man's throat. "Try again. I can tell when someone's lying to my face." She ran a hand through her hair and went on. "You know, I just had a chat with your big brother Vernon. He told me that you guys have a nice, little place around here. Wanna show me?"

The young man's eyes went wide with fear. "Vernon?"

"Yeah." She patted him on the shoulder. "He told me everything, Len. So you better start talking."

Leonard bowed his head, shifting his eyes to look down at the floor.

"I can show you the place, but you won't find him in there."

"Your brother?"

"The cop."

Cruz stilled. "What are you talking about?"

"He left. Broke free of the ropes. He killed my brother and ran away."

"What'd you do to him?"

"I don't know..."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" she asked again, twisting his arm behind his back.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry! J got a little carried away..."

"Is he hurt?"

"Yeah... I mean, I don't know. We roughed him up a little but..."

Cruz felt a flash of anger spread through her body.

"Move." She said briskly, shoving him in the back as she led him toward her unmarked vehicle. She slammed him against the cold metal of the car, spread his legs and patted him down, then proceeded to cuff him.

Leonard sighed and closed his eyes. Prison. He would be no exception to the rule.

"I swear I don't know where he is. He knocked me down and killed my brother. I don't know nothing more."

"We'll see about that."

"Maybe if you give me some time..."

"I don't got any more time!" her voice rose, the urgency in it painfully clear. "Watch your head." She added as she put a hand on his neck and pushed him sharply into the doorframe, sending him sprawling across the backseat.

With her suspect now in custody, Maritza Cruz looked around and reached for her portable radio. As much as she wanted to do this on her own, there was just too much at stake, and she knew she couldn't leave Leonard alone while she searched the place.

"5 Sergeant to Central."

"5 Sergeant, go ahead."

"Central, I need back-up at the corner of 135th and Amsterdam. Advise Lt. Swersky that I've got one of the two suspects in custody and that we might need more units at this location."

"Copy that, Sergeant. Back-up's on the way."

Once the static on the radio replaced the dispatcher's grave voice, Cruz clipped the device back on her belt and placed her hands on the hood of the car, leaning forward.

Strands of loose hair fell to frame her tired face as the minutes passed one at a time, each slower that the one before.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she heard the sound of an approaching siren and raised her head to see a police cruiser come to a halt not too far from her, lights flashing, its low wail loud enough to drown out the frantic beating of her heart.

Lt. Swersky got out of the vehicle and quickly approached her. "What do we have?"

Cruz straightened up and resumed her defiant pose.

"This is one of Marks' brothers, Sir." She said, pointing to the young man in the backseat of her car. "But unfortunately not the one I was looking for. He claims Bosco killed the other brother and ran away."

The Lieutenant stood still for a second, absorbing the news. "But you don't believe him."

"I don't know."

Faith, who'd been behind the wheels of the RMP, hastily cut the engine and walked up to them. "Any leads?" She asked, casting a sideway glance at Cruz.

"I'm not sure." The Sergeant shook her head. "But we need to check that place out."

The man nodded. "You and Yokas go inside. I'll call for back-up and keep an eye on Mr. Marks."

The two women held each other's eyes for a long moment in a pointed stare. Neither of them was comfortable with the Lieutenant's order, but they were both smart enough not to mention anything.

"Alright. Let's go." Cruz's voice took on a note of impatience.

"Keep your radios on."

"You got it, Lieu." Faith reassured him as she unholstered her weapon and quickened her pace to catch up with Cruz.

***

"He's not in there." Cruz stated out loud to get the Lieutenant's attention as they hurried out of the building and towards him a short while later.

Three more units had been called to the scene, uniforms now crowding the previously deserted street. The dog's cries could still be heard not too far from them, but nobody seemed to pay it any attention.

"What?"

"Marks was right. He's gone."

Faith looked at Swersky's confused face and rolled her eyes. "We found the room." She explained. "There's a body in there, probably the other brother. We also found uhm... a rope, cut as if someone had tried to free himself. Weapons, drug supplies. And blood, a lot of it." She finished, lowering her haze to the ground as a sad expression crossed her face. "There are traces going from that room to the hallway and the front door."

Cruz gave her a cold look, angry that she'd stolen her scene. Despite her increasing worry for Bosco's fate, there was just something about Yokas that always grated on her nerves.

"I think we should see if they lead up to something." She quickly added. "If he's hurt, he may be still in the area. He couldn't have walked that far."

Swersky nodded. "You're right."

"You may also want to check the hospitals, Sir." Faith suggested as she ran a hand through her hair. "You know, just in case he called for help." She didn't truly believe in that possibility, but in cases like this it was routine.

"You got it." He took a deep breath. "Alright, can I have everybody's attention, please?"

All the officers immediately gathered around him, the seriousness of the situation prompting them to obey without a second thought.

"The evidence we've found suggest that officer Boscorelli may still be around here. Sarge, you and Yokas will follow-up on those bloodstains. I want the rest of you to split up and canvass the area within I'd say a 2-mile radius."

His voice was strong and firm as he addressed his men.

"Remember, he may be injured. Search every alley, every dumpster, try every door. We're talking about one of our own." He paused for a second. "You're going to report to me every fifteen minutes. Is everything clear?"

Everyone nodded their understanding.

"Let's roll."

The uniforms quickly dispersed, each set of partner going their separate way until they all disappeared from the Lieutenant's view.

Faith, eager to do something, walked back towards the entrance of the building while Cruz and Swersky took care of a few details and called the Crime Lab. Those bloodstains were bothering her, and she thought she'd start following them on her own.

As she passed one of the RMPs, she glanced at Leonard. The young man seemed calm now, his face expressionless. She'd seen that look before, in the eyes of all the people she'd arrested and gotten a confession out of over the years. It was as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

She shook her head, pushing the thought aside, and made her way to the front door.

There they were. Four red streaks – a hand?- on the left side of the wooden frame, and two small drops on the ground right outside. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Bosco's blood, but that was another thought she needed to shove away.

She kept her gaze fixed on the asphalt, her eyes frantically scanning every inch of it until she finally found what she was looking for: another drop. And then another. And another.

Her heart started to beat faster. Maybe they were indeed leading somewhere.

Her spirit somehow lifted by the possibility of finding her partner alive, she crouched down beside one of them and closed her eyes for a moment, her hand lingering in the air a mere inch from the dark stain as if touching it would make her feel closer to Bosco.

"Sir, we've got more blood here." She called, turning in his direction.

Swersky walked up to her and stared at the small spot, hands on his hips, with a somber expression on his face.

Behind him, Cruz was still on the phone, no doubt giving a piece of her mind to whoever had the misfortune to be on the other end of the line, her free arm waving around to let her frustration out.

The Lieutenant followed Faith's line of sight. "Go ahead." He said, sensing his officer's restlessness. "She'll catch up when she's done."

"Thanks." She gave him a small smile and rose to her feet, her gaze once again locked to the ground.

As she moved forward and away form the main street, she found more bloodstains, undeniable proof that although hurt, he'd walked at least a couple blocks.

She felt anxious because she knew instinctively that she was close, but she didn't know what she would find once the last stain was spotted, and that scared her to the point that she could barely breathe.

The first fifteen minutes had already passed, and she heard the other officers' voices on the radio as they updated the Lieutenant about their progress, or lack of.

Rounding a corner, she noticed that the traces had become more frequent now, smaller but in groups of two or three, as if the person who'd lost all this blood had paused with each step to gather his strength.

Her chest tightened and she swallowed hard. The thought of Bosco in pain, alone and wandering through these streets after going through who knew what was enough to make her heart pound at an even faster rate, but for the sake of her friend and her own, she knew she had to focus on her assignment and put every personal feelings aside.

A noise suddenly startled her, breaking her away from her thoughts.

She lifted her gaze, her hand automatically reaching for her weapon, and found herself looking at a brown-haired dog standing a few feet from her.

Faith instinctively backed off, unsure about what to do.

The animal, undoubtedly stray, seemed nervous and was eyeing her suspiciously.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and she could've sworn his dark eyes were trying to tell her something. Eventually, it started to wag its tail as if deciding to trust her and barked twice, then turned around and headed toward the end of the road.

Faith stood there, a puzzled expression on her face, wondering what had just happened.

She didn't know how to explain it, and probably would've laughed at anyone who'd told her a similar story, but she felt drawn to that dog and started to follow him, momentarily forgetting about the bloodstains yet walking in the right direction without even realizing it.

The animal sensed her presence and glanced at her, barking again to voice its approval, then moved again, leading her through a long hallway littered with glass and crammed dumpsters.

At the end of it, she spotted someone lying on the ground. She could tell he was a man by the boots he was wearing, though the upper half of his body was hidden by a stack of dirty boxes.

The dog stopped, let out a low moan and curled up next to him.

Faith slowly inched forward until she got close enough to see who he was.

A breath got stuck in her throat.

"Bosco?"

TBC...