A Hopeless Wound (14/15)
A/N: I thought I'd feel better as the days went by, hoped I'd be able to forget the finale and all the events that led to it... Boy, was I wrong... :( My mind is still racing a mile a minute, trying to come up with some answers as to what's going to happen in the premiere, and I'm counting days until September, which means things are getting worse instead of better.
I also feel the need to write something about Mikey's death, and I probably will as soon as I finish this one. I can't believe he's really gone… As my friend Bobbie said, he was just so nothing near perfect that you couldn't help but love him. sniff
Anyway, Three Doors Down's "Away From The Sun" CD was playing in the background while I was writing this chapter so if you're familiar with it you'll probably recognize a few words. I realized it fit perfectly the mood I was in and the mood my character (Bosco) was in so I couldn't help but borrow some of the best lines.
Enjoy, and thanks again for the amazing feedback.
Chapter fourteen
He was standing on a porch.
The setting was familiar, and he realized he knew the house from his childhood. Brooklyn.
Only he was an adult now.
The sun had sunk almost completely into the horizon, its warm rays slowly replaced by a chilly breeze.
Another figure stood a few feet from him at the bottom of the stairs.
She had her hair down, her favourite silk scarf wrapped around her neck, and she was smiling at him.
Bosco smiled too, unable to resist his mother's mischievous grin, until an unexpected clap of thunder pierced the air, startling him.
Her expression grew suddenly serious and she started to walk away from him, headed towards the woods behind the property.
Bosco stood still for a moment. Something was wrong with the picture. There were no woods in Brooklyn.
He wanted to shout a warning, but no sound escaped his lips.
She waved at him as the rain started to fall, then turned around and moved forward.
Feeling his heartbeat quicken with fear, he raised one foot to go after her, but realized with horror that the house was completely surrounded by water, making it impossible for him to follow her path.
He tried desperately to call her back but couldn't make her hear him, and watched in despair as she disappeared further and further into the heart of the forest.
A moment later, he woke up to the sound of his own voice calling for help.
Mikey, who was pretty familiar with his brother's nightmares despite his attempts to hide or dismiss them, leapt from his chair and was immediately at his side.
He'd been sitting with him for about twenty minutes, and had watched his peaceful sleep become increasingly restless, figuring he was probably dreaming about her. Just as he was considering waking him up, he'd heard the agonizing cry.
"Mo? It's all right, bro. It was just a dream. It's over now." He said, his hands curling around the railing as he swallowed down hard.
Their eyes met, and the look of terror he saw reflected there shook him to the core. How was he supposed to comfort him when he was totally scared himself? He was usually the one who needed to be reassured, not the other way around.
Standing there, recalling all the times Maurice had managed to make him feel better as they were growing up, Mikey felt the respect he'd always had for him grow even more and realized that sometimes, sometimes even the strongest persons break down, and that it was okay to step up for a while and take the burden his big brother had carried most of his life.
"It's okay." He repeated, trying to sound convincing.
And when the other man lifted his hand and reached for him, Mikey genuinely thought that things were going to get better.
But the frightened expression he'd seen on his face was still there, and he was now clutching his shirt as if his life depended on it.
"What's wrong, man? You in pain?"
Bosco didn't hear his brother's questions, the ringing building in his ears drowning out every other sound.
Mouth slightly open to try and get some air into his lungs, he held onto Mikey as his heart raced and sweat burst from every pore.
The sudden movement, combined with the terrible images from his dream, had left him temporarily unable to breathe, and though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he feared that what he was experiencing was a panic attack.
He hadn't had one in a really long time, but it was definitely the only way to explain what had happened with Faith earlier and what he was feeling right now.
He took a shaky breath, closed his eyes and slowly released the grip on his brother's shirt, becoming gradually aware of the young man's strained voice as he helped him lie back down on the bed.
Seconds passed, and his breathing finally calmed. His power of reason returned. The anxiety attack had passed.
He inhaled deeply and rested his uninjured hand on his chest, waiting for the trembling to stop.
"... Remember what you used to tell me? It's all in your head, Mike. You can fight this."
His kid brother was trying to be strong for him. The thought brought tears to his eyes and he turned away from him.
"... I got nightmares too, you know. It's okay."
I know you do, Mike. Please stop.
The whole dream had lasted no more than a minute or two, yet the intensity of it and the emotions it'd evoked were sure to last a lifetime.
He wasn't supposed to be scared of anything, but lying on the damp sheet, eyes clenched shut, he felt as if his mother's death had left him walking through the world alone, struggling to find a new meaning to a life that had been forever changed.
It was like a whole piece of himself was missing and nothing mattered anymore. Nothing worth fighting for.
A terrible numbness hung around his heart.
He knew he was drowning, sinking into the dark abyss that had enveloped him like a thick blanket. Part of him wanted to fight it, but the pressure was just too much and he was exhausted, unable to find the strength to lift himself up.
Even after killing the man who'd taken her life, the feeling of blame still surrounded him, overwhelming him, chocking him. He'd never lost it, and probably never would.
His chest burned. Not with pain, and no longer with anger. It was pure helplessness now. He didn't like it, yet welcomed it anyway.
She'd taught him that life's like a boxing ring. You just keep taking the blows and get back on your feet. A perfect choice of words considering what she'd been through. Only this time, he wasn't sure he wanted to get up.
Not for himself, and not even for Mikey. He'd just had too much. It was time to step aside for a while and let someone else carry on the weight of the world.
Maybe he was being selfish, but for once in his life, he was determined to back down. He'd already caused people enough pain.
Facing the consequences of his actions and making sure any of it would ever happen again was the resolution for this second part of his existence, the one that had started when he'd lost the thing he held more precious in life.
And that meant staying away from everyone he'd hurt in the past, Mikey included. He'd failed him, just like he'd failed his mother.
Yeah. Death would have definitely been a better option, he reasoned within himself, lips pressed tightly together.
Shaking his head, he reluctantly opened his eyes, focusing as he'd imagined on Michael's tired face and seeing the worry clearly written across it.
"Thank god." The younger man whispered. "You okay now, right?"
"Yeah." He replied unconvincingly.
"Good." Mikey nodded, smiling nervously as he raked a hand through his hair and returned to his chair beside the bed. "You scared me for a moment. Thought you were having a heart attack or something."
Trust me, man. You don't wanna know.
Silence filled the room for several seconds. Bosco's hand unconsciously reached for the bracelet, a habit he seemed to have developed every time he had a visitor, while Mikey's leg started to bounce, slowly at first, then increasingly faster.
"Doctor said you're doing good." The younger man finally said when the tension became unbearable. "A couple more days and they'll spring you from this joint."
"I can't wait." Bosco said softly.
Mikey frowned. "What happened to you, man? Last I checked, you hated hospitals."
I still do, but what's waiting for me outside?
"Look, I'm sorry about what I said. I know it's not your fault she's dead." He quickly added, afraid he was still mad at him for the scene outside his place. He wouldn't hold his eyes, which was okay with Bosco, because he would sure have trouble looking back at him.
"You're sorry. Everybody's fucking sorry, but nobody's..." he didn't finish and looked away for a long moment.
Mikey blinked back tears. "Mo, listen to me." He pleaded. "I couldn't help what I did. But I'm here now. I can help." He leaned forward and touched his brother's arm.
Bosco remained unresponsive. It was as if he was tuning him out, looking at him like he was simply moving his mouth without uttering a single word.
Damn. Mikey's patience was wearing thin. He had no idea what to say to get him out of this 'I'm-not-talking-to-anybody-'cause-nobody-understands' state, and the whole situation was driving him crazy.
"Maurice..."
"Leave me alone, Michael." Bosco's voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "I'm tired. I don't wanna talk right now."
"Why everything always has to be about you?" The anger in his tone surprised them both. The younger man stood up and walked directly in front of him. "Think I don't know what you're going through? She was my mother too. And I feel bad too!"
Forced to meet his brother's gaze, Bosco saw his eyes mirroring the pain he was feeling.
I can't do this. Pushing him away wasn't the smartest choice, but he didn't have the strength to take care of him too.
After waiting in vain for some kind of reaction, Michael shook his head and took a step towards the door. "Fine. If you don't wanna talk to me then maybe you'll talk to the shrink that's supposed to come over." He said, throwing his arms out in defeat and heading outside.
Bosco closed his eyes again, mentally kicking himself for the way he was treating the only relative he'd got left.
Sure there was his father, but he'd sworn a long time ago he wouldn't have anything to do with the man, and that basically left him out of the picture.
He heard his footsteps as he walked away and sighed. This was totally wrong. Mikey didn't deserve it, not now that he was apparently clean and desperately looking for another chance to do things right.
Who am I kidding? He thought to himself as realization dawned on him.
Trying to deny it wasn't going to do him any good. He needed him, probably just as much as Michael needed him. And he sure was a hell of a lot better than some shrink who'd treat him like a nut case.
"Mike. Wait." The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.
The young man's hand stilled on the handle, his heart thumping loudly as he expectantly turned around.
"I'm sorry." His voice crumbled. "I shouldn't have... That was stupid."
Mikey's lips curved into a small smile.
"I just... I can't take the responsibility anymore."
There. He'd said it. He studied his brother's face, wondering what his reaction would be.
Mikey lowered his gaze as he considered his words.
"It's okay, man. I understand that." He said, walking up to the bed. "I'm not asking you to take care of me. I just want us to be brothers again. That's what mom would want."
Bosco nodded. He was right. He could still be there for him. Not as the father he'd been forced to be, but as the brother who didn't have to shoulder responsibilities, just share them with him. And right now, the thought of sharing the pain and loss he was feeling sounded pretty damn good.
For the first time since the whole ordeal had started, he saw in the turmoil of blackness above him a single star, its light bright enough to guide him back to the surface.
"Yeah." He finally smiled. "That's what she'd want."
Mikey sat on the edge of the bed. "Remember when she caught me smoking weed in the garage? Man, the look on her face... I thought I'd be grounded for life."
Bosco's smile broadened. "And she punished me too 'cause she thought I'd given it to you."
He felt his eyes fill with tears, though this time they didn't come from sadness but relief.
"Wait. I got something for you." Mikey unhooked the gold chain from his neck and handed it to him. "I think you should have it."
Bosco held it in his palm, staring at it as if it held all the answers he was looking for, then closed his hand around it. "Thanks, man."
"Not a problem." He shifted his eyes to look down at the floor. "You know, we should talk about the dog that's been living with me since they found you."
"What dog?"
"Oh, it's a long story, but a really good one. Wanna hear it?"
Bosco grinned. "You bet."
TBC in the final chapter...