Title: Forgiveness 11

Disclaimers: I don't own them I just wish I did.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Bosco blames himself for Mikey's death. Can Faith help him?

Warning: Major angst, darkness, and pain. Oh, and Fred is a good guy here.

They think I'm so strong, that I know exactly what I'm doing. They couldn't be further from the truth.

The nurses and doctors defer to me before making a change to his medication or treatment.

What do I know?

I know that I've worked with Bosco for ten years, joked with him, cried on his shoulder, trusted him with my life and that of my family. We shared some of our darkest secrets, supported each other in our most difficult moments and tore each other down in anger and rage.

I know when he's happy, when he's going to shoot himself in the foot, and when he's going to risk everything for a total stranger.

With Bosco, I'm sure of myself because I'm sure about him. As unpredictable as he can be, when it counts, I know his every move.

I know that he's gonna go left when I go right. I know how to communicate with him without uttering a word. I trust he's behind me even if I can't see him and I know when I can charge ahead because he's got my back.

These things I know.

But now I don't know. I'm not so sure of myself and I look for reassurance. "Fred."

He leaves his spot by the window and walks back by my side. He places his hands on my shoulders and massages me gently. "Fred, I don't know what to do."

I'm not afraid to expose my fears and weaknesses to my husband "Fred, what should I do?"

He leans down and hugs me from behind. He is here because I am here and he doesn't want me to go through this alone.

"You're doing it honey. You need to make sure he never gives up, just like you never gave up on me." He burrows his face in the crook of my neck and kisses me tenderly.

His words are strong and sure and he knows it's what I need to hear.

He knows the answers to my questions. He knows my fears and quells them for me. He knows my weaknesses and he makes me stronger.

These things they both know.

The water comes. It is unrelenting and endless. Small waves lap against me until I swallow another mouthful of salt water. I spit out what I can and then hear my voice, harsh, desperate, and frightened as I beg for his forgiveness. "Mikey…I'm sorry. I never meant for anything bad to happen to you."

He refuses to answer me and I fear he's not here to help but to seek his revenge. I rage at him with the little strength I have left. "Don't let me die like this. Mikey, please, you know…you know I can't die like this."

"Mo…please…I can't…please don't ask me…" He doesn't finish, just looks away. My hopelessness is replaced by anger and it propels me to swim towards the boat. My lungs and muscles burn as my arms move in slow, sloppy strokes barely out of the water. I make no headway towards him in fact the boat looks further away now than before.

My frustration and helplessness grow until I just want to scream but even that would take too much effort.

I keep asking myself the same question. Does he hate me so much that he would let me die like this?

"Is this my punishment?" I gasp out desperately, arms and legs flailing weakly.

Suddenly the boat appears mere inches away, so tantalizingly close that I can smell the resin in the wood. Mikey leans out towards me and I pray he's come to pull me into the boat.

But my hope fades when I see the hurt in his eyes, as he says, "No, it's mine."

They tell me it has been five days since he was brought in but it feels like a lifetime. I don't know what day it is anymore. What I know is the rhythm of the hospital, the start of the next shift, the time for meds, the time to check vitals, to change position, to poke, to prod.

Day and night have no meaning. I think and feel only in the now. The only questions I ask are in the now. Is he breathing? Is he hurting? Is he waking?

I don't sleep. I can't. Now is all I have and I can't waste it.

Now, all I do is talk. Call to him. Encourage him. Beg him.

Now, I will him to breathe. Will him to fight. Will him to live.

I watch myself as if I was a stranger. My hand, although attached to my body works on its own. I watch it as it washes away the fevered sweat from his body. I watch it as it rubs his back when his breathing shudders and stutters.

I hear my voice, but it I don't recognize it. This voice rises above the humming and beeping sounds of the machines. "Bosco, don't give up. Just hang in there. I won't leave you. I'm right here…" On and on it goes. It won't falter and it won't give up on him. Not now.

I reach out as far as the strength left in my body will allow. My fingers brush against the side of the boat. The wood feels smooth to my touch but offers me nothing to hold on to.

Pain and fear consume my body and I groan involuntarily with every breath. The effort of extending my arm is too much for me and I lose contact with the boat. I feel like my last chance for salvation has been exhausted.

"Mo, listen to me." I hear Mikey's words and the urgency in his voice forces me to look up at him.

"Mo, it doesn't have to end this way." He shakes his head sadly. "It doesn't…"

My mind is reeling, and all I want is this pain to end. He stares down at me compassionately and says sincerely, "Please, forgive me."

My mind is in a haze and I don't understand his words. Doesn't he see that I need his forgiveness, not the other way around? He senses my confusion and continues.

"Everything comes with a price," he muses to himself. "My greatest sin was selfishness. I thought only about myself. I guess I was born to be a junkie." He looks away and stares out towards the horizon. "When I got here," he waves his hand out over the water, " I thought I was in heaven. Here I was in California, where I had always wanted to be." He looks down at me regretfully and starts to cry softly.

"I had to learn the price of my selfishness." He wipes his eyes quickly. "This is it." He looks down at me again, shame showing in his eyes. "This is what it was like for you watching me throw my life away with my drugs and not being able to stop me. I'm sorry, Mo. I didn't know how much I hurt you." He turns away ashamed.

I can barely keep my head above water. I start to choke and cough as water fills my lungs. Mikey turns back quickly towards me. I see the panic in his eyes as he reaches down towards me. He instantly regrets his decision and stops just as his arm is hovering above me.

This is my last chance and I lunge at him with everything last bit of strength I have left. I see my arm rise above the water and I grunt as the effort causes all the air to leave my lungs. I grab on to his hand but on contact, I feel a searing fire run through my body.

My scream is muffled when my head sinks below the water and I let go of him immediately. Somehow, miraculously I manage to break the surface again. I can barely think or breathe through the pain that racks my body and I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

I hear Mikey's soft cries. "They won't let me help…this is my punishment…please, please forgive me…I never meant for this to happen."

TBC…