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.
I awake with a start, my arms shooting out and ramming into something solid on either side.
"What the..." I mutter in confusion. My bed feels as hard as a rock; I don't remember it being this solid. I try to peel my eyes open but they feel weighed down by a thousand pounds.
Then I hear it. Either the pounding is my head has increased one hundred fold or someone is knocking at my door.
I open my eyes slowly and immediately notice the bright sunlight streaming into the living room. I turn my head and feel the kinks in my neck and back as well as the hardness beneath me. I reach up and feel the sofa to one side and the coffee table on the other. How the hell did I end up on the floor?
I push myself up slowly as I hear more knocking.
"Bosco, I know you're in there, open up."
Shit, it's Sully. What the hell time is it anyway?
"I'm..." I clear my throat and continue, "coming..."
I pull myself up into a stooping position. My body feels like it is a hundred years old. That'll teach me to fall off the couch and sleep on the floor.
I limp over to the door and open it. Before I can even get one word out Sully pushes his way into the apartment carrying a bag of something. Let me guess, donuts or Danishes.
"Well it's about time," he huffs. He looks me over and gives me a disapproving look.
I instinctively try to flatten my hair with my hands and look down at my rumpled clothes.
"What are you doing here?" I ask more than a little confused.
"Don't you wanna get back to work?" He says, astonished he had to ask.
"What the hell kinda of question is that?" I reply annoyed. I scrub my face with my hands as I try to awaken completely.
Sully peeks at the watch on his wrist and ignores my glib comment. "Well, it's just after eleven, so if you get your butt in gear we might get your clearance from the hospital before roll call."
I can the feel the air leave my lungs. Damn, I forgot about that little piece of paper. Swersky is not going to let me pass GO without it this time.
Sully sets the bag and a couple of cups of steaming coffee on my kitchen table. "I brought us breakfast." He says, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "You wanna eat now or after your shower?"
"After," I mumble before making my way to the washroom. I have a feeling this is gonna be a long day.
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We arrive at the station 30 minutes before roll call. Hell, I've never been this early unless you count the time I fixed the seat in the forward position in the RMP so Sully would let me drive.
I bring the medical clearance form to the desk, while Sully goes upstairs to take care of some paperwork he didn't complete properly.
The locker room is deserted as I drag my sorry ass to the sink. I still feel like I just woke up and I rub my neck and shoulders before splashing some cold water across my face.
I straighten up uneasily and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Some of the images and feelings from last night come rushing back and I grab the sink as I take in some shaky breaths. I close my eyes and shake my head to erase the memories.
I grab a paper towel and swipe at my face to dry it off. Then I move to my locker and try to focus on opening my lock.
I tense when I feel someone move in behind me because I know it's not Sully, he would have said something to me.
Suddenly, I'm pushed violently into the lockers and then pulled around. A forearm is pressed against my throat cutting off my air and holding me in place. I grab at the arm and try to pull it off.
"So, you went crying to the Lieutenant about our little 'adventure' the other night?" Michaels says.
He's right on top of me, giving me no room to manoeuvre. His knee is pressed against my legs and his arm is forcing my airway shut.
All I can do is grunt in response.
"You thought you were gonna get me into trouble. Didn't you?" Michaels yells and gives me another forceful push causing me to gag.
I try to shake my head no, to explain it wasn't me, but I can't make a move either way.
"You wanna go for a ride with me?" He cackles deviously. "There's no one here to help you, Boscorelli. Nowhere for you to hide."
Oh God, no. No..no..no...There's nowhere to hide. I push the children behind me. The rebels run our way, their weapons pointed towards us. They're shouting and yelling, but I don't understand a thing. The villagers rush out to see what's happening. The children cringe behind me. I back peddle as quickly as they'll allow me.
The rebels are almost on top of me now. I hold up my hands in surrender. The children are screaming and crying. The air is filled with the sounds of terror; parents, children, rebels all shouting at one another, pleading, threatening, begging.
"Don't hurt them," I yell but I have no idea if the rebels understand. I grab the children and push them away from me, towards their parents. They need to get away from me. I'm the one the rebels want.
The crying and shouting dies down as the children are reunited with their parents. I stand alone, surrounded. I know all about the evil these rebels inflict on their victims. They don't care anything about conventions or treaties for prisoners or civilians. These rules don't apply to their world.
I swallow hard, but my mouth is as dry as the desert landscape. I don't want to die. I don't want to die like this. I feel my heart racing with fear, thumping wildly within my chest. My panting breaths count down the remaining seconds of my life as they tick by slowly.
One of the rebels approaches, laughing at me with his gap tooth smile, pointing his weapon between my eyes. He approaches and touches the barrel of the rifle to my forehead. My breath catches in my throat and every sensation in my body is heightened to an unbearable level as my life flashes before me.
I close my eyes and for the first time in a long time, I pray. I begin to shake as I pray for the courage to face my destiny. I pray for Ma and Mikey. I pray for the villagers, they don't deserve this, no one does.
I open my eyes when I feel my helmet being pushed off my head by the rifle. It falls to the ground and rolls a few feet to the left of me. I can see the pictures of Ma and Mikey taped to the inside of the helmet. As silly as it sounds, I don't want them to see me like this.
The gap tooth rebel is eyeing me as he walks around me, sizing me up. He must be the leader. He shouts something for all to hear.
No one makes a move. No one answers. My shaking intensifies as I realize I'm facing my executioner. I close my eyes again and am rewarded with a rifle butt across the face.
I stumble forward and fall on my hands and knees. The blood comes gushing out of my mouth and nose. I watch my life flowing out of me and into the dusty ground. I'm mesmerized by the grotesque image formed by the mixture of blood and saliva on the earth. This is the land that will swallow me up, the last place I'll know before I die. I shudder violently at this thought.
The leader yells at me, when I look up at him he kicks me in the ribs causing me to topple over onto my side. I suck in some air but it gets mixed with the blood causing me to choke.
I hear the whimpering of the children as they are forced to watch. I look towards the villagers, their eyes wide and fearful, their hands clutching their children closer to them.
I pick myself up slowly and attempt to stand up. I stumble from the dizziness and I blink my eyes to clear my head before I make it up into a standing position. I turn to face the lead rebel. Every breath intensifies my fear but I have to face this head on.
My voice sounds so far away and I falter as I begin..."My name...is Maurice Louis Boscorelli. I am a Ranger...I am a Ranger in the United States Army, number 239..." Another rifle butt to the back of the head interrupts me and I fall forward one more time.
When I open my eyes again, the world is tipped over on its side. My cheek is pressed against the soft earth; the fine dust invades my nostrils and mouth as I try to steady my breathing. There is a constant ringing in my ears and I feel something wet and sticky running down my neck. I try to reach up to touch it but my arm is yanked back. I'm kicked several times and I gasp for air like a fish out of water. They yell at me but I can't make myself stand so I'm hauled up to my knees and held there.
As I struggle to breathe, the other rebels pick at the items on my jacket like vultures on a carcass. They remove my belt, the extra ammo, my knife, and anything else they can get their hands on.
The leader turns towards me. The rest of the rebels step aside as he approaches. He leans forward and continues his litany of shouting mere inches from my face. He must be explaining my crimes and possibly my punishment.
When he's done, the rebels begin to laugh, they're all laughing at me. I blink my eyes into focus and look towards the villagers. Not one of them has the courage to look at me. Their faces are like stone, their eyes downcast; they know...
The leader leans down and grabs a handful of dirt and lets it fall from between his fingers. He's trying to make me understand, but I don't. He laughs, his gap tooth laugh and then swings his rifle, allowing it to connect forcefully with the side of my head.
I see an explosion of colour as I hit the ground. Their laughter echoes in my ears as I feel someone untie and remove my boots. All I can think of is that I'm not even dead and their taking my boots. More shouts by the leader and I feel myself being dragged towards a rushing sound.
I look for the source of the sound and realize it is water. I've been brought next to the river. In reality it's not much of a river, about 50 feet wide and 2 feet deep, flowing lazily from a nearby mountain.
My mind is racing; why are they gonna shoot me in the river? The leader comes back and shows me another handful of earth, laughs and points to the water. Suddenly, I understand the irony of my situation; I'm going to drown in one of the driest places on earth.
I can hardly contain my hatred for his gap tooth face. "F-ckin' bastard." I yell at the top of my lungs.
I struggle to get to my feet because I'd rather get shot in the back than this. The rebels are on me instantly. I fight back desperately against their numbers, but they easily overpower me. I'm pulled into the river and forced to a kneeling position. They hold my head mere inches from the flowing water.
I stare down into the murky river. It might as well be 600 feet deep. I'm not getting out of here alive. I push back against the hands that hold me to face my grave.
The leader kneels down next to me and speaks with a calm soothing voice that I can barely make out above the sound of my laboured breathing. Then he gently grabs the back if my head, almost as if caressing me. Maybe, he just wants to scare me, maybe he doesn't mean to do this. Every sound and sensation intensifies as I wait, but any semblance of hope is replaced by terror as he forces my head below the water.
I feel myself scream as my face is pushed into the bottom of the riverbed. Silt and mud fill my mouth and mix with the water rushing down my throat.
My screaming intensifies, but only in my mind. My world goes black, then white and all I can feel is that bastard's hand on my neck. I swallow murky, mud filled water and choke violently as I try to will my body to stop trying to breathe.
"You better tell Lieu that you made a mistake and take back everything you said about me." Michaels says menacingly.
I feel my strength fade and my vision blur. My wheezing must scare him because he lets go of me and I fall to the ground. My hands automatically grab for my throat and I hear myself gasping for air as beads of sweat roll down my face.
My emotions are in turmoil, terror and anger battle to rise to the surface.
I claw my way up to a standing position and allow fury to take over. I rush at Michaels and knock him back into the lockers. I let my arms flail away at him, not caring if I connect or not.
Almost instantly, arms grab me and pull me back. Two, four, strong arms hold me tightly as I continue to lash out. I'm beyond reason at this point and I can't see or speak.
I hear Michaels shouting. "He's crazy. You see what he did to me? You better keep him on a sort leash, Sullivan."
Someone holds me from behind, wrapping his arms around me, not allowing me to move. I struggle to escape my captors. I can hear my grunts as I try to get away.
"Bosco, calm down." He says in a soothing voice.
I look back expecting to see Sully, but all I see is a gap tooth smile and I panic again. I desperately twist my way out of this hold and back up into the lockers.
I wrap my arms around myself but I can't bear to look. My eyes are shut tightly and I find it hard to breathe.
"Bosco?"
I peek out at the sound of my name. It's Sully and Grady. I stand there, my breathing wild and heavy. Sully stares at me, his hands out in front of him as if trying to contain a wild animal.
I swallow all the air I can get as I struggle to get my bearings. I can't stay here.
I hold on to the lockers for support as I back away from them. I stumble towards the washrooms and crash into one of the doors, slamming it back as I enter the stall. I slump down onto the toilet and wrap my arms around myself to help slow down my breathing and my heart rate.
"I'm not crazy. I'm not..." I repeat to myself as I rock back and forth slowly.
TBC...