Summary: My take on why Bosco and Sully don't get along. Takes place shortly after Bosco graduates from the Police Academy

Disclaimer: I don't own Third Watch or any of its characters.

A/N: This story was previously posted on another Third Watch site but no longer available there. I was encouraged to post it here by Joey and Orison.

Thanks for your wonderful reviews.


The pounding in my head is the first thing I feel as I emerge from the dark confines of sleep. I take a chance and open my eyes but this causes the pain to reverberate behind my eyes and down into my body. I will my hand to reach up and massage my temple.

The quiet is broken by the muffled voices in the other room. It sounds like Ma. I think she's talking to Mikey. I rub my eyes and then press my palms into the sockets, hoping the pain will dissipate. It doesn't.

I push the blanket off and roll to the edge of the bed. I swing my legs over and plant my feet on the carpet. I notice I'm wearing my old sweats. I don't remember how I got them on or how I got to bed after...last night.

I rub the back of my neck. I feel sore all over like I've been sparring with someone for 10 rounds. The clock on the nightstand says 2:23 and although it's the middle of the afternoon, I feel like I could sleep until tomorrow morning.

I need to use the washroom, so I push myself slowly off the bed. My legs feel wobbly and I hold on to the furniture for support. I approach the door and pull it open quietly.

I stand in the hallway and listen.

"I can't do this anymore." Ma says. I can hear the fear and anger in her tone of voice. "You get your brother to a doctor, or someone who can help him because I'm not doing this again."

God, I think she's crying. I lean on the wall and lower my head in shame.

"Ma, c'mon. It's gonna be okay. Please don't cry." Mikey pleads with her.

"It's not okay and it hasn't been okay since he got back."

I've heard enough so I head towards the washroom. I use the wall as a guide to help me keep my balance. I feel completely exhausted and drained. I enter the washroom and flip on the overhead light. I'm forced to squint at the brightness.

After a few moments of adjusting, I peek at my reflection in the mirror. I don't like what I see so I avert my eyes quickly and turn on the tap so I can splash cold water on my face.

I slowly realize how awful my mouth tastes and I grab the toothpaste and spread a little on my finger. I brush my teeth and mouth as best I can with this makeshift toothbrush.

Finally, the moment of truth arrives and I move to use the head. I hold my breath as I wait for the shooting pain but this time it doesn't feel so bad. The doc was right; it's getting better already.

I really need a shower, but I decide to wait because I better let Ma know that I'm still alive so, I shuffle back to the kitchen.

"I found Steve's number in the papers over in the desk." Mikey says then pauses. I instinctively bring my head up at the sound of Stevie's name. "Ma, I called him. He's coming over."

"Good. Maybe, he can get through to your brother because I can't."

I decide to emerge from my hiding place and walk in on them.

Mikey looks up at me and smiles weakly. "Hey bro. How you feeling? He says gently.

I hate it when he treats me like I have cancer or something. "Like shit." I say and ease myself into a chair at the table.

Mikey eyes Ma and me nervously, watching both of us to see who makes the first move.

Ma gets up and puts her mug in the sink. I lift my eyes and steal glances at her while her back is turned. I decide it's easier to talk to her back, so I make the first move. "Ma, I'm sorry."

She stiffens and then she turns the water on to wash the dishes in the sink. I know she's mad at me. Mikey peers over and gives me a sheepish grin.

"Ma?" I ask hesitatingly.

"Maurice, I don't wanna talk now. I'm too upset about all this." She has that I mean business edge in her voice.

I don't want to argue with her if she doesn't wanna talk to me so I just mumble, "Okay."

I turn towards Mikey. He fidgets nervously in his chair.

"Who's coming?" I ask even though I know the answer.

He shrugs slightly before flashing me a grin. "Mo..." he starts but doesn't continue.

"Why'd you call him?" I ask seriously.

"Maurice." Ma's says with some exasperation in her voice.

"What?" I say without looking at her.

"I asked Mikey to call Stevie and I invited him over for supper tonight."

I know it's a lie and I know what she's up to and I feel my leg start to jiggle up and down nervously.

Ma places her hands on the table, and leans in towards me. I start to sweat a little and I turn my head away. Mikey watches the both of us, his eyes darting from Ma to me, and back.

"Now, you listen to me and you listen to me good, Maurice Louis. I'm not putting up with this anymore, you hear me? You get help, and you get yourself better, because the next time..." her voice catches and I have to close my eyes to avoid looking at her. "...next time is gonna be the end of me. You hear?"

I nod my head because this is killing her and I don't want to hurt her anymore.

I feel her eyes on me so I look back and I notice she's still staring at me. I can't look her in the eye because I know she can read me like a book and she probably thinks I'm just trying to appease her by keeping my mouth shut. Well, she's partially right, I just don't have the strength to argue with her.

The room is unnervingly quiet.

I chance a couple of sideways glances at her and I can tell she's getting madder by the way she wrings that dishcloth in her hands. I feel my nervousness rising because I can't make any promises to her, at least not what she wants to hear.

She sighs loudly and I know she's thinking about what to do next. She straightens up and folds her arms. She's waiting for me to I look up at her. When I do, I see that her eyes are hard and angry and I know better than to look away, she wants my full attention.

"If you don't get help, then don't bother coming back when you have a problem because all I'm gonna do is call 911 and have the paramedics come and pick you up," she says harshly.

My eyes remain locked on hers even though I feel all my strength evaporating. I can feel my jaw clenching and my eyes watering but I won't let her see me cry. I won't give her that satisfaction.

"Ma," Mikey whines, "don't say that."

She turns away first and goes back to washing something in the sink. Mikey looks at me beseechingly, begging me to tell her what she wants to hear. But, I won't because I can't.

There's nothing left to do or say so I get up and walk back to the bedroom. I can feel Mikey's eyes on me as he calls out to me. "Mo, c'mon. Come back and sit with us."

But I don't bother to answer or look back as I enter the bedroom and close the door behind me. I crawl into the bed and reach over for the blankets. I pull them up over my head and all I think about is what about me. What about what I want?

And all I know for sure is that I don't want to know about the dreams, I don't want to remember. Why can't anyone understand that?


Tick, tock, tick, tock...I try to focus all my attention on the sound of the clock as it counts down time, bringing me closer to the end of this charade.

Tick, tock, tick, tock...we all sit around the dinner table and play our parts, Ma the gracious hostess, Mikey the fun-loving younger brother, Stevie the grateful guest, and me...me the disinterested one.

I'm barely listening to the superficial conversations going back and forth. All I can think of are the questions that everyone is dying to ask but can't bring themselves to speak.

This whole thing makes me feel like a fly caught in a spider's web. Maybe, if I don't struggle, the spiders won't notice I'm here.

I push the food in my plate from one side to the other, hoping it will somehow disappear in the process 'cause I don't need Ma getting on me about how much I'm eating or not eating.

I'm staring at my food when I realize that the conversation has stopped and I sense all eyes on me. I look up into the expectant faces waiting for me to pronounce myself on something or other. "Uh...sorry...what was that?" I mutter.

Ma takes the lead. "Steve wanted to know how you liked it at NYPD." Then she raises her eyebrows at me as a warning to answer politely.

"Oh...it's..." I think about my answer. I can't be too enthusiastic or Ma will know I'm lying and I can't play it down 'cause then Stevie will know I'm lying. "...It's good, you know."

"Yeah?" Stevie looks at me questioningly, wanting me to reassure him that I'm happy being a cop.

I nod my head a few times. "Yeah, it's pretty interesting and I have a good partner. He's kinda senior so he knows a lot about policing...yeah, it's good..." I don't know what the hell they expect me to say.

"Good." Stevie stares at me for a few seconds before he turns back to Mikey and asks him something about his work.

I immediately zone out. I don't want to listen to this garbage. I let them play out their parts, it's the least I can do not to draw any attention to myself.

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"Don't you think you should check on him?" Faith asks me for the hundredth time since we started the shift. She's riding with me today since neither of us have partners for the day.

I can feel myself making an annoyed face and I quickly try to relax so Faith doesn't see it. Yeah, I wanna check on him so I can ream him out for scaring the shit outta me last night. He didn't even bother calling me today to let me know he was okay.

"He's at his mom's, Faith. He woulda called if he needed something." She's really starting to get on my nerves about Bosco. And trust me, the little bugger already frayed the few remaining nerves I have left.

She eyes me for a second before she decides to take another approach. "Well, I'd feel better if we checked on him. Let's swing by his mom's and see how's he doing."

I stare straight ahead and think about it. She's giving me a way out of my stubbornness and it'll be safer for him if there are other people around when I see him for the first time since the hospital. "Okay," I mumble gruffly.

"Good." Faith lets out the breath she was holding and sinks back into the car seat. I honestly can't figure out who'll be more relived to see him, her or me.

Faith gives me the directions to Mrs. Boscorelli's place and a few minutes later we pull up in front of her house. We both get out of the car and make our way to the entrance. I let Faith lead the way and until we're standing in front of the door. I knock lightly and wait.

A familiar face peaks out when the door opens. Mrs. Boscorelli smiles when she sees me and Faith standing there. She pulls the door completely open and welcomes us both in. "John, Faith, what a nice surprise seeing you again. Please, won't you come in?"

"Rose, it's so good to see you again." Faith says. I notice she calls Bosco's mom by her first name. They must know each other pretty well. Faith turns back slightly to look at me and continues. "We came to check on Bosco, see how he's doing."

"Yes, of course. Maurice stepped out for a few minutes. I'm sure he'll be back soon. Do you want to wait for him?" Rose puts her hand on Faiths arm and tries to guide her in.

"Um...we can't really stay Rose. We're on duty." Faith says gently.

This seems to fluster Rose momentarily, the fact that she didn't realize we were on duty. "Uh...what was I thinking...I'm sorry. I'm sure Maurice would love to see you. He took a walk with a friend to the park over on 75th. You know the one Faith. Maybe, you can catch up to him. They only left a few minutes ago."

She seems a little too eager to have us talk to Bosco. Her eyes convey a kind of quiet desperation that is begging us to look for him.

"Mrs. Boscorelli...is he doing okay?" I ask because I don't know what, but she's keeping something from us.

"John, please call me Rose," she says warmly.

I nod my head and smile back at her.

"You know Maurice, he doesn't complain if he's not feeling well..." She says to avoid answering the question.

"Yeah, well we'll swing by the park and say hello to him," I say as I see the relief in her face when we offer to check up on him.

"Alright, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you," she says gratefully.

Somehow, I'm not too sure about that.

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"Damn, it's cold today," Steve, says as he jams his hands into his pockets.

I nod my agreement but otherwise don't speak. I'll let him do the talking so I can try and figure out what Ma and Mikey told him.

He motions to the park bench and I reluctantly move over to it and balance myself on the armrest. He tries to keep warm by stamping his feet into the ground and hunching into his jacket.

He waits for me to say something but I'm not offering up anything. He looks around nervously before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Need my fix," he says and grins sheepishly. He lights up the cigarette and he takes a long puff. I can see the satisfaction on his face as he blows the smoke up towards the sky. He looks back at me and offers me a drag. He knows I don't smoke anymore, but I take it and inhale deeply before handing it back to him.

"I was always such a bad influence on you," he smiles wickedly and laughs. I can't help but admire him at times like this. With everything he's gone through, he can still laugh, another reason for me to feel even more ashamed of myself.

I duck my head down but he doesn't let me off the hook.

"Hey." He tilts his head and looks straight at me.

"Stevie..." I begin but I don't quite know where to start. I look down at my feet hoping somehow I'll be inspired to say the right thing.

"Bosco, it's okay," he says gently and offers me his cigarette again.

I take it and visually inspect it as I roll it between my fingers. "How can you say that?" I say wearily and take another drag.

"Bosco, just tell me." He watches me closely when a realization comes to him. "Did you remember something?" He whispers and steps closer.

"Not really...you wouldn't understand, anyway."

"I was there, remember?" He doesn't say it meanly just as a matter of fact.

I start again. "My mom...she doesn't understand..." "Hey, she cares about you. She wants what's best for you."

Stevie doesn't have to try and convince me of that. I know my mom loves me.

I want to tell him but I can hardly put my own feelings into words. I start to stammer, "I-I can't remember anything and yet...everything reminds me...of something I can't remember...I don't know if that makes any sense." I say honestly.

"How so?" He asks, genuinely concerned.

I shake my head. "I don't know, but lately, I'm feeling...out of control...scared...and I don't know why. Sometimes, I drive by the river and I almost start to hyperventilate just looking at it. I don't know why I'm so afraid of the water. I never was before..."

"What else?"

"I don't know, I can't quite put my finger on it...anything can set me off...and I don't know why..." My voice is barely a whisper, I can hardly admit these things to myself, but Stevie's like a big brother to me and I know he won't tell anyone else.

"You still having nightmares?" he asks, but I know my mom's briefed him on this already.

"Yeah, but I can't remember a thing when I wake up."

He takes another long drag of his cigarette and hands it back to me. "I see you still have that necklace." He points to my neck.

I finger the solitary bead hanging from the small leather strap around by neck. I feel its smooth exterior and suddenly a tremor runs through me causing me to let go immediately.

"Do you remember her?" Stevie asks.

"Who?"

We've never talked about what happened over there since we've been back. Stevie was in rehab for months before he could walk again and I couldn't remember jack so there wasn't much to talk about.

"Squirt," he says with a smile that quickly dissipates into sadness.

"Squirt," I repeat and shake my head. "Nah." My brain doesn't remember but my body disagrees as I feel my heart start to race.

"She made the necklace for you. She was that kid from the village...you called her Squirt and you gave her your chocolate every time we went into that village." He smiles lightly then continues. "She would follow you around like a lost puppy. She had the most beautiful smile." Stevie says with a far away look in his eyes. "You even begged us for our rations of chocolate so you could sneak some in to her. That was just before..."

"Stop." I yell out. "I don't want to hear anymore." I stand up quickly ready to move away. I toss the cigarette to the side and look down the street.

"Whoa, Bosco," Stevie puts his hands up in front of me and holds me there. "We don't have to talk if you don't want too," he says as moves his hands onto my shoulders.

I turn my head away from his gaze as I feel the nervousness taking over my body. I grab his arms and try to pull them off of me. "I think you should go Stevie. It's getting late and ...I gotta work tomorrow."

Stevie releases me slowly. He watches me intently as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. He opens the package, takes one and offers me one. I stare down at the cigarettes for a second before accepting his offer.

Stevie lights my cigarette before puffing away on his as he continues to eye me. "Bosco, you can call me anytime. I mean it, anytime."

"I'm sorry Stevie...I can't talk about it ..."

I look up at him and see understanding in his eyes. "That's cool, Bosco. What ever you want is okay with me. Okay?" He smiles lightly.

I nod nervously. "Yeah, thanks," I mutter as I turn away from his prying eyes.

TBC...