Fallen Angel

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.

Chapter 3

Fallen Memories

Do you ever have those dreams that get worse and worse every night? I've been having this dream lately. Well, it's not really a dream, more like a memory. I'm in a dark room, then it get's light. I can hear things falling, then guns shooting. It was the hosiptal that day. The one when you found out that it wasn't my fault. Sometimes I think it was but you found out that day. It was Mann...

"Oh my god! Bosco!" Faith yelled as she removed his hand from her waist and turned over.

I remember feeling like I was going to throw up. He was drowning. Practiclly drowning in his own blood. I wanted to help him. I wanted to take him far from here but I couldn't. I was lost. Confused and lost. I didn't know what was happening. All I remember is bullets. Lots of bullets. Shattered windows. Screaming. Glass flying every where. Pain. Screaming. Nightmares. Blood. Lots of blood.

I closed my eyes and everything stopped. Just for a moment. Then it was like everything was in slow motion. Me helping Faith pull Bosco out of gun shot. Trying to do the best we can. I remember staring at him. The trail of blood closely following us. All the blood.

"I'll go and get help," I told her. So I did. I went to get help. I followed all the screaming. All the pain. All the memories.

"Officer down! Officer down!" I yelled. Taking them to where Bosco lay. I bit my tongue. Bosco had gone down for Faith. Bosco had gone down for Faith. For Faith.

I pointed at the stiff body of Bosco as Faith lay there crying. I wanted to punch her. Scream in her face. It's all your fault! He went down for you!

But she wasn't to know. It wasn't her fault. Stupid Bosco, always trying to be the hero. I sat down on the chair. Watching as they carried Bosco away. Faith kept muttering about his mother and I just sat there. No one came up to me. I just sat there like a idiot. An idiot that won't cry. I stared at my hands. They were covered in blood.

"Cruz, are you allright?" Monroe asked me.

I shook my head and showed her my hands, "All the blood," I muttered.

She looked at me strangely, "Cruz, there is no blood on your hands,"

I shook my head again and stared at my hands. They were dripping with blood. I couldn't even see my finger nails anymore. It was all my fault. Lettie, Mikey and now Bosco. Me and my stupid ego. The blood was getting thicker. My breath's were getting deeper. I stood up.

"Cruz, you need to sit down,"

I smirked. No one tells me what to do. I carried myself out of the room. The man I killed lay dead on the floor. Too much blood. I stepped over him. Eyes wide open. Faith was screaming. A girl somewhere was calling. Bosco was dying. And I had his blood all over my hands.

I burried my head in my hands. Nightmares, memories, there all the same. "Just leave me alone," I cried. But no one could hear me. No one would ever hear me. But it was over. Prison, the cover up. Bosco was getting better.

But not me. Not Cruz. Cruz would never get shaken up over anything. She wouldn't let it get to her. Wouldn't she Monroe?

No one knows me. I thought she did but no one knows me and no one ever will. Maybe Bosco did. Maybe he knew me. At least well enough to stay well away from me. The guy thought I was using him. Well, maybe I was. He was the only one there. The only one to take it away. The only shoulder to cry on.

He doesn't love me. He never did. He went down for Faith. For Faith. Not for Cruz. Never for Cruz. I hate Faith. I absolutely hate her. She shot me first. She shot me, what was I supposed to do? Then I tried to be nice to her. On the rooftop, I tried small talk. It takes alot for Cruz to be nice to someone and I tried. But no. She got all mad. Then she got promoted to Detective. I mean seriously, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard. Everyone I meet have like a thing against me. It's like they knew me in a past life or something. I'm just joking but nobody ever wants to get to know me. Or is maybe that I just don't let them. That's probably right. No one really knows me.

I stood up and went over to the kitchen sink. I lathered my hands up with soap and turned on the cold water. Too much blood.

Suddenly the phone rang and I quickly dried my hands.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Cruz, this is Lieutenant Miller."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Where were you today?" He asked.

"Not at work," I told him.

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that. What the hell do you take me for Cruz?" He asked.

I didn't answer. I didn't have too. But he asked again anyway.

"Just answer the question Cruz,"

"I had to go out,"

"I thought I told you Cruz that you couldn't do anything without my consent,"

I laughed in my head. Who does he think I am?

I was about to say something rude when I though better of it.

"Uh, sorry?" I asked like it was a question. Well, I didn't know what he wanted me to say.

"Wow, that's a first," He replied.

"Uh, see you tomorrow Lieutenant," I said before hanging up the phone.

I ran my fingers through my hair and closed my eyes. Isn't life just perfect?