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.

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I lay my hand over his chest as if somehow my touch could calm his laboured breathing; I feel his heart racing rapidly into my palm, matching my own.

My eyes turn to his face. His flushed and sweaty appearance is a stark contradiction to its stillness. I snap out of my trance and reach over to fish the mouth guard out of his slack jaw. It is covered in blood, some of which dribbles down the side of his mouth and onto the mat. I pull his lip to the side and look for the source of the bleeding; a small cut on the inside of his cheek.

I detect movement out of the corner of my eye; Sully is unlacing his gloves. The way he fumbles around with this seemingly simple task alerts me that I'm not the only one concerned at this point.

Grady leans over my shoulder and looks down at Bosco too.

I hadn't noticed how quiet the room was because I was so focused on Bosco's breathing, which is still more like gasping at this point. I look back and see Washington, Michaels, and Giambetti standing behind me. Michaels looks at me, all the cockiness and arrogance from earlier tonight is replaced by something I can't quite read, until he looks down and away from my gaze. I realize that he knows I saw what happened too.

I'm brought back to Bosco when I hear Sully cursing under his breath. He's still struggling with the gloves. Grady kneels next to him.

"Sul, let me handle this...get the towel." Sully allows Grady to handle the gloves. Then he reaches back and grabs the towel lying haphazardly on the mat.

Sully wipes Bosco's face and cleans up the small amount of blood dripping onto the mat.

"There," Grady exclaims as he pulls off one of the gloves. Bosco's hand slumps down on the mat. I concentrate on watching Bosco's face for any sign that he's regaining consciousness. I realise I'm still pressing down on him and I ease off a little, letting my hand rest weightlessly on his chest.

"Okay folks, let's give him some room." Washington starts to push Michaels, Giambetti and a couple of other gawkers away from us. He turns to the crowd gathered around the ring. "Match is over, move out. Nothing left to see. He'll be fine."

The crowd starts to disperse as quiet conversations start up again.

"Bosco?" Sully leans over and calls to him gently. "Bosco, can you hear me?" He can't conceal the worry in his words; I don't think any of us can.

I replay the scene in my mind; Michaels advancing, Bosco taunting him and then seemingly letting Michaels hit him. I can still hear the sound of the glove hitting Bosco, and I could tell he was out before he hit the mat with a sickening thud.

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A wave of white noise crashes into me, the sound burning into my consciousness until I'm forced to react. I push at the edges of the darkness until a fog surrounds me as the noise continues to sear into my brain.

I feel like I'm floating, and yet I can't sense my body. I'm caught in a smoky, white haze of nothingness, unaware of anything else. The buzzing in my ears continues unabated, pushing something else away. Faint voices enter from above but they can't cut across the noise.

A tremor runs through my body, bringing with it the sensation of fear. I try to pull myself out of this place, but I'm trapped, unable to untangle myself from this web.

A hand holds me down. I plummet back into a sense of darkness and an upsurge of dread gushes up into my chest. The sensation of this hand compels me to fight, but my body is not my own.

I focus on the buzzing in my ears, it drowns out the distant screams and I allow it to take over all my senses until my body feels like it has an electric shock coursing through it. My nerve endings tingle and begin to burn with the feeling of re-awakening. This is almost worse than the fog.

I can start to make out the sound of my own breathing. It sounds unbelievably loud and it frightens me because I can't feel the air in my lungs and I need to escape this suffocating darkness. I need to get away from here. I can't go back, I can't...please, I can't go back there again.

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"Bosco?" Sully reaches down and places his hand on Bosco's shoulder but he doesn't shake him. He stares at him so intently that I doubt he even remembers we're in the room. He leans over and slowly pulls back Bosco's left eyelid. This causes Bosco to swallow and his eyes to shift from side to side. Sully lets go immediately.

Bosco moans softly and his left hand comes up and cups the area around his ear. His eyes dart rapidly beneath his closed lids. His eyebrows furrow together as he moans out in pain.

"Bosco, can you hear me?" Sully asks worriedly. He stares down at him and watches Bosco's left hand move around sluggishly. Still, there is no response from Bosco to confirm his return to our world.

"Did anyone call the medics?" I ask as if I just remembered that we should have someone look at him at this point. I look up into the faces surrounding me. When no one responds I look over at Sully and he looks around in confusion.

As if on cue, one of the medics from across the street enters the gym carrying one of his bags. I recognize him as Doc. Washington is escorting him to the ring and briefing him on what happened.

Doc climbs into the ring and kneels down by Bosco's head. "Looks like he got knocked out during the match." He says matter of factly. He studies Bosco and quickly reaches out to grab his left arm.

Suddenly, Bosco groans loudly and tries to open his eyes as he pushes back. I instinctively force down harder on his chest and try to grab his right arm to hold him down.

This only causes him to fight back harder. Sully joins in and tries to hold his shoulder. Bosco's agitation increases as we all help to hold him down.

"Let him go." Doc orders. We all look up in unison and Doc confirms his previous statement more softly this time. "Let him go before he hurts himself...he's coming around...just let him go."

I ease my hands off of him gently as do the others. Doc is taking Bosco's vitals and noting them down on a piece of paper. "How long has been out?" He turns and asks me.

I feel like I've been asleep up until this time. I have no idea how long he's been out. Sully is just as clueless as my self.

"About 7 minutes," Grady volunteers.

Bosco tries to roll over and Doc just watches to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Doc motions for the rest of us to move back and give him some room.

"Bosco, do you know where you are?" Doc asks.

Bosco's eyes flit open as he tries to push himself off the mat. They are marred by confusion and fear and I watch as everyone else ignores this and continues to watch helplessly.

Doc removes Bosco's headgear and grabs his elbow to support him so he doesn't slam face first into the mat as he shakes and wobbles to a sitting position.

Bosco's apparent confusion spurs me into action and I talk to him gently as I run my hand over his trembling arm. "Bosco, you're okay. Doc just wants to take a look at you. He won't hurt you." I finally see some form of recognition in his eyes, as he's able to see me for the first time. He relaxes noticeably causing him to list to one side. Doc catches him and gently lowers him to the mat.

"Where...is...she?" Bosco asks shakily. I look up at Sully, hoping he knows what Bosco is talking about but he shrugs his shoulders.

"Bosco, everything's okay ...don't worry about anyone...we're all okay." Sully answers soothingly.

This seems to calm Bosco and he closes his eyes as he inhales deeply. "I want...to go...home," he whispers softly as he moves his hand back to the side of his head. He rubs the area around his ear although I'm pretty sure Michaels got him square on the jaw. His lips move as if to speak and the only thing I can make out is something like 'I can't make it stop.'

I look up at Sully, who sighs loudly. "I'll take you home Bosco...don't worry about that...I'll take you home after you get checked out," he mutters sullenly.

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How did I know that we weren't gonna make that trip to the hospital after all - crazy, mule-headed, stubborn kid. I'm mad at everyone right now, but most of all me for letting myself believe it was okay to for him to go ahead with this bone-headed idea to fight Michaels.

I should have known better. I had a feeling nothing good was gonna come of this and here I have my proof. Not only did Bosco refuse to go to the hospital but he wants me to drop him off at home. Does he think I'm outta my mind? He almost got his head popped right off his shoulders and he thought I would just leave him to his own devices.
I insisted he stay at my place for the night, and I wouldn't take no for an answer and I know I was right as I watch him navigate through the corridor in my building by holding on to the walls. So here we were, me pushing the door to my apartment open while he leans on the wall to keep from falling over. When he doesn't make a move to enter I go back out and stand in front of him.

I'm about to read him the riot act but I can't bring myself to do it. He's barely holding on and he's trembling slightly as his eyes drop down to stare at the floor.

I reach out and gently grab his elbow and guide him over to the couch. I take hold of his jacket and remove it for him. I turn to drop it over a chair as Bosco eases himself down onto the couch. He leans back and closes his eyes as he wraps his arms around himself for warmth.

I grab a blanket from the closet and pull him forward and wrap it around his shoulders. He sits there in a daze, his body shaking slightly.

"Bosco, are you cold?" He doesn't bother to answer, just rocks himself slowly back and forth. I reach over and pull the blanket up around his neck making sure it offers maximum warmth.

"I...can't... get warm," he whispers hoarsely.

"It's okay Bosco, I'll get another one."

"It...won't help," he says shakily.

I get down so I'm not towering over him. "Tell me what will." I watch him carefully. He doesn't look back at me. He continues to rock back and forth. He drops his head down and pulls the blanket up to his chin and holds it over his mouth. His eyelids droop and his eyes lose their focus. He blinks them rapidly to regain his hold on wakefulness.

"Make it stop," he whispers breathlessly, his eyes close and he tightens his grip on the blanket.

The fear in his voice takes me aback for a second and I realize that he really has no one else to turn to for help. I feel a rush of emotion as I watch him struggle, no, as I watch my partner struggle. "He'll never hurt you again, Bosco." I say angrily. His eyes open instantly at the sound of these words. He looks at me expectantly waiting for me to continue. "No one will ever hurt you again," I say protectively. He blinks a few times as if the words haven't registered yet, then he nods his head slightly before letting it drop down.

"I'll go make some hot chocolate, maybe that will help warm you up," I say awkwardly. He doesn't look up just nods his head and pulls the blanket closer. I stand up hesitantly not sure what I should be doing now. I move towards the kitchen and take one last look back before looking for the kettle.

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I'm barely holding on. Everything jumbles into my brain causing me to lose my sense of direction. I can hardly tell which way is up, where I am or what I'm doing. The chill running through me is glacial.

I push myself up into a standing position and look for the phone. It sits on a table on the other side of the couch. I take a shaky step but decide to sit back down on the couch and slide across to the other side. I reach out for the receiver as I search my brain for the number. I dial and wait.

"Hello."

I pause and try to get my gather my thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Why...did you lie?" I hear my voice as if it's coming from a deep canyon, far off in the distance.

"Who is this?"

"I said, why did you lie?" I manage more forcefully.

"Bosco? Bosco, it's the middle of the night. What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? I know you lied to me...I know what happened." The only response I get is silence. I shake harder and pull the blanket closer while I wait.

"Tell me." Stevie says calmly.

"No, I won't ...why did you lie to me Stevie, why...?" I can feel the words catch in my throat.

"Bosco, I didn't lie to you," he replies calmly.

"What are you talking about? I know...I know..." I trail off badly, the tears forcing their way back into my eyes.

"What do you know Bosco. Bosco? Bosco...please...I promised? You made me promise." I hear the sadness and the desperation in his voice, which proves to me that he knows. "Bosco?"

A tremor racks me and I shake uncontrollably. I can't. I can't do this now. I place the receiver back in the cradle as I hear Stevie calling me over and over again. I close my eyes and lay down on the couch. I can't deal with lies wrapped in more lies. I can't understand why he won't tell me...I cover my ears as her screams begin to resurface from the abyss. I want to cry out for help but he won't let me as he gives flashes his crazy gap tooth grin. I look frantically for someone, anyone to help, and that's when I see Sully working in the kitchen. I feel the weight of the bastard's hands lifting off my throat and a quiet calm comes over me as I remember Sully's words. And I believe him, I believe everything's gonna be okay. I know, 'cause Sully promised.

TBC...