Title: When the Heat is On (12/?)
Rating: NC-17
Author: Angela Penfold
Email: AngelaPRPi@aol.com
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, not going to make any profit in using them. Warnings: Mentions of sex and violence in later chapters. Some adult language in this one.
Notes: This story is set the summer following the second series and in my version of events Bobby survived the shooting.
Chapter 12
Pain was the first sensation to register, instantly making him wish unconsciousness would creep over him again. Agony lanced through his head like lightning strikes, an attempt to simply roll his head to move his cheek away from the wet concrete increasing the severity until he wanted to scream. Each breath was torture, raw, red heat washed through his chest in waves, almost freezing his lungs with the effort. Warmth rolled over him from the still burning building but out in the yard he was free of the searing flames. Glass littered the cobbles beneath him and bit into the underside of his body but that didn't matter, he'd found a way out. Careless of the pain it would bring Bosco made the effort to laugh. The guy had fucked up again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Coming round in the burning building had been one of the most frightening experiences of his life. The guy had gone but his legacy had remained, flames slowly consuming the entire room. Just getting to his hands and knees had sent dark spots dancing across his vision. He couldn't afford to give into the sweet darkness, if he did unconsciousness would be permanent. Fighting the nausea and sickening pain every inch of the way Bosco crawled out into the hall.
Smoke filled the space making visibility practically nil, there wasn't any mistaking how severe the fire had got though. The bar itself was unrecognisable, the entire room thoroughly ablaze. Flames rolled across the ceiling, crept down the walls, and, unfortunately, cut off his exit through the rear door. The arsonist had planned all this, would've prevented him getting out on purpose. Swallowing back a whimper Bosco crawled towards the bar. Maybe the fire engines would get there in time, he had to hold onto that hope. Heat seared his skin, made it even harder to breath through the pain. His body trembled with fatigue, he had to rest, had to gather his strength and think. Bosco leaned against the wall and instantly felt himself falling.
The impact against the worn brick floor had his breath exploding from his body. Pain swelled within, seeming to tear out of his chest like the face huggers in Aliens. This time there wasn't any preventing the rush of bile from his stomach. He barely had the time to roll onto his hands and knees before he vomited. The gags that followed did little to ease the agony but strangely his breathing was easier. Bosco lifted his head and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he surveyed his new surroundings. Somehow in his panic he'd stumbled through the cellar hatch.
It was gloomier down here, the red glare of the blaze not penetrating the concrete ceiling. Less smoke too, that was what was helping his breathing. At the rear of the cellar, under what must've been the yard, a ray of light shone through a crack in the ceiling. He'd spent enough time at his mom's bar to know what it was he was seeing and it had joy bursting through his mind. In a lot of the old New York bars they bought the kegs of beer in through the basement, saved navigating stairs. They'd simply slide the kegs through a set of wooden doors on the yard floor, roll them down a little ramp and stack them. Now the hatch would provide him with an unexpected exit.
Wrapping an arm protectively around his battered ribcage Bosco got to his feet and in a crouch, rushed towards the light. His aching fingers struggled with the simple bolt before it finally slid back. He muscled open the heavy wooden doors and crawled out onto the cobbles. Wheezing, Bosco dragged in deep breaths of cleaner air as he crawled away from the building. Finally feeling the rasp of the yard's back wall against his fingers he gave in and let his body collapse. By the time the bar exploded and debris rained down around him, he was unconscious.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A tangle of voices drowned out his laughter, grim remarks first, a familiar hushed tone, then an almost joyous cry. Cool fingers touched his neck, skimmed over his cheek, brought agony as they probed the swollen lump behind his ear. His eyelids were pried open, light seared his brain and had him flinching away as someone checked his pupils. Bosco raised an arm, flailed at the figure beside him to at least temporarily stop the torture. "Watch it," he rasped.
A relieved chuckle ran out beside him. "He's awake. Someone let Yokas back here." Gentle fingers kept Bosco in place when he tried to rise. "Woah, you're not in any state to get back to your squad yet man."
Forcing his eyes open Bosco aimed a sneer in Bobby's direction. "Ridin' in that thing'd be less painful than what you're doing to me." A groan punctuated his words as Kim's hands spanned his chest, exerted unbearable pressure on fractured ribs. Shudders wracked his body, trying to breathe through that sort of pain was nearly impossible.
A mask was fitted over his mouth by Kim, the sweet flow of oxygen into his lungs easing his gasps. His head turned to the left as Faith and another woman came into view. For a moment he didn't recognise the second figure, dark curls fell free down past her shoulders. As Bobby carefully rolled Bosco's head back to mid-line, slid a collar round his neck, recognition dawned. It was the fire investigator. News about the nature of the fire, about the assault must've spread fast. The pair crouched close by as Bosco was rolled onto a backboard, the straps being tightened around his body. Most of the treatment was just precautionary but it was necessary.
"How you doing Bos?" Faith asked softly. Her fingers trembled as she reached out and skimmed hair back from his blood-smeared forehead.
A weary smile tugged at one corner of his mouth beneath his mask. Bosco's hand rose, tangled with Faith's. "Feel like I met Tyson."
Frowning softly, Faith glanced at Bobby. "It wasn't the fire that hurt him?"
Bobby's eyes were dark and grim as he slid a BP cuff around Bosco's upper arm. "No way. This was an assault Faith. Someone beat the crap out of him."
Releasing Faith's hand for a moment Bosco tugged the mask away from his face. "Guy played dead in the office. Found him and he just started swinging with a flashlight."
Kim fitted the mask back over Bosco's face. "Keep it on. As if it wasn't bad enough you sucked in all that smoke, you've probably got a collapsed lung too."
Determined to pass on as much information as possible before he was moved to the hospital, Bosco dragged the mask of again. His red-rimmed eyes fixed on Amelia; worry had already lined her forehead. "Said it was a warning to you. Wants the investigation stopped."
"Fuck," Amelia whispered softly. She'd had a feeling about the fire's origin as soon as she'd heard about the call. The news was worse than she'd feared though, he was using friends against her, blackmailing until she shut the investigation down.
Standing at either end of the backboard, Bobby and Kim hoisted Bosco onto a gurney. Even as he was moved he kept his attention focused on Amelia. "I know the guy." He continued as surprise widened her eyes. "The jogger. The day we found you at the warehouse a jogger told us someone was digging around in the wreckage, told us to stop you. It was him today. Don't let him stop this, gotta get him."
A gleam of hope returned to Amelia's green eyes. She squared her shoulders as she stood. The arsonist was getting sloppy, making mistakes as he grew more frustrated. These slip-ups would be his downfall. "I'm not going to give up. I'm going to need as much information as possible though. Get you a sketch artist, run the details we've got through the national database, try and get a match."
"Not doing that now," Kim said firmly. "Boscorelli needs to get to the ER. You can talk to him later."
Frustrated but refusing to feel totally out of the running Amelia followed the paramedics, Bosco, and his partner, down the alleyway. The front of the building was a hive of activity. Fire fighters swarmed around the entrance to the bar, their work watched by a dark haired figure poised on the rear bumper of the fire truck. Scowling, Amelia moved away from where Bosco was being loaded into the ambulance and approached him. "Jimmy? What the hell are you doing here? Your doc promised he wouldn't release you until I got there this evening."
He gave a charming smile, took her hand to draw her down next to him. "Sweet talked him when I heard Bosco'd got caught up in there. Cap won't have me back at work for a couple of weeks at least but I wanna help with this investigation Mac."
She was shaking her head immediately, trying to draw her hand out of his. This close to him the charm was impossible to resist. "No Jimmy. No. This guy's using all of you to push me off of his trail. I'm not letting him get to you."
"Too late," Jimmy said softly. For once his dark eyes were serious as they locked with hers. "He made me a part of this the instant he messed with that staircase. I'm not an investigator but I'm a great fireman. Let me help get this guy."
What she'd seen in his eyes had her regretfully nodding. "Alright." She pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, pressed them into his hand. "Grab a pizza and go to my place, 1132 Harding Avenue. I'll meet you there as soon as I've processed the scene." She smiled at Jimmy as she rose. "Pepperoni and lots of mushrooms." She allowed herself one moment of weakness and pressed her lips to his before she jogged away to her truck. Time for work.
Rating: NC-17
Author: Angela Penfold
Email: AngelaPRPi@aol.com
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, not going to make any profit in using them. Warnings: Mentions of sex and violence in later chapters. Some adult language in this one.
Notes: This story is set the summer following the second series and in my version of events Bobby survived the shooting.
Chapter 12
Pain was the first sensation to register, instantly making him wish unconsciousness would creep over him again. Agony lanced through his head like lightning strikes, an attempt to simply roll his head to move his cheek away from the wet concrete increasing the severity until he wanted to scream. Each breath was torture, raw, red heat washed through his chest in waves, almost freezing his lungs with the effort. Warmth rolled over him from the still burning building but out in the yard he was free of the searing flames. Glass littered the cobbles beneath him and bit into the underside of his body but that didn't matter, he'd found a way out. Careless of the pain it would bring Bosco made the effort to laugh. The guy had fucked up again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Coming round in the burning building had been one of the most frightening experiences of his life. The guy had gone but his legacy had remained, flames slowly consuming the entire room. Just getting to his hands and knees had sent dark spots dancing across his vision. He couldn't afford to give into the sweet darkness, if he did unconsciousness would be permanent. Fighting the nausea and sickening pain every inch of the way Bosco crawled out into the hall.
Smoke filled the space making visibility practically nil, there wasn't any mistaking how severe the fire had got though. The bar itself was unrecognisable, the entire room thoroughly ablaze. Flames rolled across the ceiling, crept down the walls, and, unfortunately, cut off his exit through the rear door. The arsonist had planned all this, would've prevented him getting out on purpose. Swallowing back a whimper Bosco crawled towards the bar. Maybe the fire engines would get there in time, he had to hold onto that hope. Heat seared his skin, made it even harder to breath through the pain. His body trembled with fatigue, he had to rest, had to gather his strength and think. Bosco leaned against the wall and instantly felt himself falling.
The impact against the worn brick floor had his breath exploding from his body. Pain swelled within, seeming to tear out of his chest like the face huggers in Aliens. This time there wasn't any preventing the rush of bile from his stomach. He barely had the time to roll onto his hands and knees before he vomited. The gags that followed did little to ease the agony but strangely his breathing was easier. Bosco lifted his head and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he surveyed his new surroundings. Somehow in his panic he'd stumbled through the cellar hatch.
It was gloomier down here, the red glare of the blaze not penetrating the concrete ceiling. Less smoke too, that was what was helping his breathing. At the rear of the cellar, under what must've been the yard, a ray of light shone through a crack in the ceiling. He'd spent enough time at his mom's bar to know what it was he was seeing and it had joy bursting through his mind. In a lot of the old New York bars they bought the kegs of beer in through the basement, saved navigating stairs. They'd simply slide the kegs through a set of wooden doors on the yard floor, roll them down a little ramp and stack them. Now the hatch would provide him with an unexpected exit.
Wrapping an arm protectively around his battered ribcage Bosco got to his feet and in a crouch, rushed towards the light. His aching fingers struggled with the simple bolt before it finally slid back. He muscled open the heavy wooden doors and crawled out onto the cobbles. Wheezing, Bosco dragged in deep breaths of cleaner air as he crawled away from the building. Finally feeling the rasp of the yard's back wall against his fingers he gave in and let his body collapse. By the time the bar exploded and debris rained down around him, he was unconscious.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A tangle of voices drowned out his laughter, grim remarks first, a familiar hushed tone, then an almost joyous cry. Cool fingers touched his neck, skimmed over his cheek, brought agony as they probed the swollen lump behind his ear. His eyelids were pried open, light seared his brain and had him flinching away as someone checked his pupils. Bosco raised an arm, flailed at the figure beside him to at least temporarily stop the torture. "Watch it," he rasped.
A relieved chuckle ran out beside him. "He's awake. Someone let Yokas back here." Gentle fingers kept Bosco in place when he tried to rise. "Woah, you're not in any state to get back to your squad yet man."
Forcing his eyes open Bosco aimed a sneer in Bobby's direction. "Ridin' in that thing'd be less painful than what you're doing to me." A groan punctuated his words as Kim's hands spanned his chest, exerted unbearable pressure on fractured ribs. Shudders wracked his body, trying to breathe through that sort of pain was nearly impossible.
A mask was fitted over his mouth by Kim, the sweet flow of oxygen into his lungs easing his gasps. His head turned to the left as Faith and another woman came into view. For a moment he didn't recognise the second figure, dark curls fell free down past her shoulders. As Bobby carefully rolled Bosco's head back to mid-line, slid a collar round his neck, recognition dawned. It was the fire investigator. News about the nature of the fire, about the assault must've spread fast. The pair crouched close by as Bosco was rolled onto a backboard, the straps being tightened around his body. Most of the treatment was just precautionary but it was necessary.
"How you doing Bos?" Faith asked softly. Her fingers trembled as she reached out and skimmed hair back from his blood-smeared forehead.
A weary smile tugged at one corner of his mouth beneath his mask. Bosco's hand rose, tangled with Faith's. "Feel like I met Tyson."
Frowning softly, Faith glanced at Bobby. "It wasn't the fire that hurt him?"
Bobby's eyes were dark and grim as he slid a BP cuff around Bosco's upper arm. "No way. This was an assault Faith. Someone beat the crap out of him."
Releasing Faith's hand for a moment Bosco tugged the mask away from his face. "Guy played dead in the office. Found him and he just started swinging with a flashlight."
Kim fitted the mask back over Bosco's face. "Keep it on. As if it wasn't bad enough you sucked in all that smoke, you've probably got a collapsed lung too."
Determined to pass on as much information as possible before he was moved to the hospital, Bosco dragged the mask of again. His red-rimmed eyes fixed on Amelia; worry had already lined her forehead. "Said it was a warning to you. Wants the investigation stopped."
"Fuck," Amelia whispered softly. She'd had a feeling about the fire's origin as soon as she'd heard about the call. The news was worse than she'd feared though, he was using friends against her, blackmailing until she shut the investigation down.
Standing at either end of the backboard, Bobby and Kim hoisted Bosco onto a gurney. Even as he was moved he kept his attention focused on Amelia. "I know the guy." He continued as surprise widened her eyes. "The jogger. The day we found you at the warehouse a jogger told us someone was digging around in the wreckage, told us to stop you. It was him today. Don't let him stop this, gotta get him."
A gleam of hope returned to Amelia's green eyes. She squared her shoulders as she stood. The arsonist was getting sloppy, making mistakes as he grew more frustrated. These slip-ups would be his downfall. "I'm not going to give up. I'm going to need as much information as possible though. Get you a sketch artist, run the details we've got through the national database, try and get a match."
"Not doing that now," Kim said firmly. "Boscorelli needs to get to the ER. You can talk to him later."
Frustrated but refusing to feel totally out of the running Amelia followed the paramedics, Bosco, and his partner, down the alleyway. The front of the building was a hive of activity. Fire fighters swarmed around the entrance to the bar, their work watched by a dark haired figure poised on the rear bumper of the fire truck. Scowling, Amelia moved away from where Bosco was being loaded into the ambulance and approached him. "Jimmy? What the hell are you doing here? Your doc promised he wouldn't release you until I got there this evening."
He gave a charming smile, took her hand to draw her down next to him. "Sweet talked him when I heard Bosco'd got caught up in there. Cap won't have me back at work for a couple of weeks at least but I wanna help with this investigation Mac."
She was shaking her head immediately, trying to draw her hand out of his. This close to him the charm was impossible to resist. "No Jimmy. No. This guy's using all of you to push me off of his trail. I'm not letting him get to you."
"Too late," Jimmy said softly. For once his dark eyes were serious as they locked with hers. "He made me a part of this the instant he messed with that staircase. I'm not an investigator but I'm a great fireman. Let me help get this guy."
What she'd seen in his eyes had her regretfully nodding. "Alright." She pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, pressed them into his hand. "Grab a pizza and go to my place, 1132 Harding Avenue. I'll meet you there as soon as I've processed the scene." She smiled at Jimmy as she rose. "Pepperoni and lots of mushrooms." She allowed herself one moment of weakness and pressed her lips to his before she jogged away to her truck. Time for work.