Story Notes: part two is the longest of the three. I also had some trouble because I keep feeling like I write both of them way too OOC for my personal liking. Did my best. Hope you like it anyway.
Part 2
Bosco couldn't believe he was hearing this. Faith and Fred had always had problems, they'd existed way before he'd ever met them, but he didn't realize he had become one of them, and that she'd picked him over Fred, sacrificing the only other man in her life to keep him close to her. He felt a bit guilty with this new information. His mistakes, his weaknesses, his dependency on her had torn her marriage apart. If he hadn't known Fred was an ass, he would have felt worse about the damage he'd done, but he apologized for his weakness anyway. "I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant to come between you two."
"Don't apologize, Bosco, it's not worth it," she replied, taking a sip of her Cosmo. "Besides, I don't blame you for it. You didn't know. If anything, I owe you a thank you. The end of that marriage was the best thing that ever happened to me, even if it hurt at the time. I didn't really love Fred anymore anyway, and he obviously stopped loving me some time ago, but even when he did love me…" She mumbled something else at the end of her sentence, but Bosco didn't catch it.
"Sorry, what'd you say?"
"Nothing."
"Hey, come on, we're talking civilly, and sharing, and everything," Bosco grinned. "You can tell me. It doesn't matter anymore anyway."
Faith paused for a moment before answering. She'd said too much. This would lead back down that road that they'd both avoided for so long. Finally, softly, she said, "I don't think Fred would have ever taken four bullets for me."
Bosco didn't say anything. He automatically touched his face where the scar from the bullet's exit-wound had been. The scar was no longer as visible and bold as it once was; he'd had the plastic surgery the doctors had talked to him about at the earliest possible opportunity.
Originally, he hadn't planned to do it. He had always thought plastic surgery a vain and shallow thing to do unless it was absolutely necessary, like those people whose faces had been all messed up in accidents and fires. Sure, he'd always joked about his good looks to the guys in the locker room when the subjects of girls and dating had come up, and he'd always flashed a smile to the girls, but he never realized that those looks were as half as important to him as he pretended. When the bandage had come off, he'd never dreamed that flashing his smile wouldn't be enough. He never dreamed that the girls, the guys, that anyone who didn't know him, his story, and his struggle to come back from life threatening injuries wouldn't look past the scars.
Bosco had never dreamed he'd be so vain as to have the plastic surgery, to not be able to stand the glances from the passersby who hardly knew him and only saw the flaws in his face. He couldn't take it. He was, for the most part, a confident man. He could look in the mirror and stand the scars, even if he didn't like them. What he couldn't stand was the way people looked at him and let their mouths hang open when they saw the crater in his face. It was too much for him. He gave in had the surgery just so people wouldn't gape at him anymore, like he was some kind of animal on display at the Bronx Zoo.
Faith reached across the table and pulled his hand away from his face, dragging him out of his thoughts. "Don't be self-conscious, Bosco. It looks good."
He smiled a little and then admitted, "I had the plastic surgery and everything."
"You?" she said, sounding surprised. Faith knew of Bosco's dislike for plastic surgery.
"Well, yeah. You didn't think I was going to have a hole in my face forever, did you?" he asked.
"Well no, but Bosco, that's expensive. When'd you get the money?"
"I got some of it from the department, used a bit of my own, and borrowed some of it from my ma," he explained.
"You should have asked me for at least some of it," Faith said quietly, looking intently at the fries remaining on her plate. "If anyone should have paid for it, it should have been me."
"Yeah well," Bosco gave a bitter laugh and leaned back in his chair, "I wasn't about to ask you for anything anymore."
She recognized the tone of his voice. It was coming: the inevitable interrogation. It was like attempting to stop a hurricane, but Faith tried anyway. "Bosco, please, it's been such a nice birthday talking to you again, please don't –"
But Bosco couldn't keep himself from saying it. His mind had wandered too far down that path. Like a small child, he'd pulled the scab off the wound again, and it began to bleed.
"What did I ever do or say to make you believe that I would lie to you?" he asked her.
Faith continued to look sadly down at the table and then said, in a tiny voice, "It's a long story."
"Well, Faith, I've got time," Bosco said heatedly, looking at his watch. "Tell me about it."
"Are you sure you want to hear this?" Faith asked him.
Bosco nodded. "Like I said, we got time. Hell, I got all night."
Faith downed what was left of her Cosmopolitan and signaled to the bartender for another. She sighed and resigned herself to the fact that the day had finally come when she would have to explain herself to Bosco. She had hoped this day would never come. She hated talking about those few weeks she fought with Bosco over his vision and his shooting ability; she hated thinking about their fighting, his being shot, and she and Cruz covering up her vigilante justice. All those events went against the moral, fair, strong person she always tried to be; they showed her at her weakest, they made her hate herself.
She didn't know when the day would be when she had to explain it all to Bosco, but she knew that eventually he would come looking for answers. He always did come to her, and it was just a matter of time. She'd wanted to put it all off for as long as possible, but her time had finally run out. He'd finally come for the whole story, and he had the right to know it. Faith knew this. She just didn't want him to see her that way. She didn't want him to see the mess she'd become because of pain and fear. She didn't want him to hate her the way she hated herself.
But he deserved to hear everything, because he had taken those four bullets for her, which had led to everything else. If anyone deserved to know the truth, it was Bosco. Strong, loyal, brave Bosco with the good heart who'd risked everything for her. And even though she didn't want to tell him, she knew she had no choice. Swallowing quickly and taking a deep breath, she said, "Remember when you asked me when I stopped believing in you? It was right after that thing with that vampire guy who tried to get back at me through Emily?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"Well, I never did stop believing in you. Not really."
"Then why'd you do all that stuff?" Bosco asked her incredulously. "Why'd you accuse that sharp shooter of throwing a few bullets my way? Why'd you go to Swersky about my eyes? Why didn't you believe me when I just told you?"
Faith felt and looked surprised, as though she'd been whacked around the face with one of those plastic yellow wiffle-ball bats. "You mean you honestly don't know?" she asked him softly. She thought he'd at least have figured this part out. "Really, even after all this time you've had to find out everything and think it all out, you really don't know?"
"The closest I could get was that you enjoyed being some big shot detective."
"The color of my badge had nothing to do with it," she said, slightly annoyed now. He accused her of forgetting what it was like to be a beat cop, of forgetting what it's like to have to come back from an injury. She hadn't. She'd been shot, paralyzed, and had to make her way back. She'd been partners with him for thirteen years as a beat cop. She'd never forget what it was like to be afraid that she'd never speak to him again. As much as she didn't want to have this conversation, she was grateful that he was actually there to have it with her. No, she'd never forget how it was.
"Then what was it?" Bosco asked impatiently.
"It certainly wasn't my shield," Faith snapped.
"Then what was it?" he asked angrily again.
"I was scared, all right? I was afraid," she admitted reluctantly. "I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid of what? Bosco, are you kidding me?"
"No. What were you afraid of?"
"I…I…I was afraid of losing you, Bosco," Faith stuttered at first, struggling to get the words out, but she found her voice. "You told me you couldn't see, and you came to my apartment and you asked me to shoot for you. You magically re-qualify a week or two after I turn you down and I didn't know what to think. I was afraid you were going to get hurt."
"Risk is part of the job, Faith. Remember?"
She sighed, "Yeah, I remember. But risking losing you again was not a chance I was willing to take. So I did everything I could to try and protect you, even if I hurt you – hurt us – in the process. It was sort of a defense mechanism."
"A defense mechanism for what?" he asked her. "What could you possibly be defending yourself from?"
"Guilt. Pain. Fear," she answered. She said everything quickly, as if it would be easier to say and hear if she said everything really fast. "Everything you were going through, it was all my fault because I had stood up instead of hitting the deck when those shooters came running in. If you had cheated to re-qualify, you getting hurt wouldn't have been my fault. It would have been yours. And I could try to protect you from yourself, the way you protected me from my own stupidity that day."
Bosco just stared at her, and silence reigned for a moment. "It was still a lousy thing to do," he said finally. "Going behind my back like that and making me feel like shit. You were the only person in the world I was sure would believe me, the only person who mattered to me what they thought, and you…you failed me. You hurt me."
Failure. There it was. Failure. She'd let him down. She'd been a failure as a partner and a friend, and in all the time he'd known her, stupid, wild, and reckless as he was sometimes, he'd never failed her so totally and completely when she needed him. He'd never done to her what she had done to him.
"I'm so sorry for that, Bosco, I really am. I know it was selfish of me to be trying to ease my guilt and fear when you were struggling, but I really was afraid that you'd be hurt again. You saved my life that day, I haven't forgotten it, and I'll never be able to repay you for it. I was just…trying to make it up to both of us," she said quietly. "I'm really sorry. If I could do it over, I'd do it differently."
"Maybe I should run out and get a bullet in the face, lie in a coma for months again," Bosco snapped irritably.
Faith winced. "Don't even say that. Please don't say that."
"Give me a break, Faith."
"You weren't conscious after you were shot. You didn't see yourself," she said.
"I saw the scars," he snapped. "I felt pain before I passed out and after I woke up. If you went through anything, what I went through was worse."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Bosco," Faith snapped, her temper rising to meet his, and she truly angry with him for the first time. "What the rest of us went through was terrible. It wasn't the same, but it was terrible! You didn't see all the blood, or the mess on the floor. You didn't see Davis looking sick and Cruz, balls of brass Sergeant Maritza Cruz, looking terrified when I turned you over. You didn't see me doing CPR desperately trying to keep you alive; all the while praying that'd you'd make it. You didn't see the doctors trying to jump start your heart. You didn't see me scrubbing blood off my face in the bathroom so I didn't scare your ma when I walked in to tell her what happened to you. You didn't see me crying, you didn't see me and Cruz when…" she stopped. She'd said too much again.
Bosco looked dumbfound at her sudden outburst, but the momentary surprise was turning to curiosity and as he recovered, he was awaiting her next sentence. This part, she'd never planned to tell him. She thought he would just listen to why she went behind his back and be done with it and hate her forever. But he hadn't done that. She'd underestimated him again, and he'd angered her into giving up too much. When she didn't continue, he pressed her. "When you and Cruz what?" he asked.
"Bosco," she whispered, "Bosco please don't make me –"
"Faith," he said, and for the first time since this conversation started, he sounded gentle, and Faith nearly felt that she was talking to a friend again. "Please, tell me. We've got nothing left to lose."
"But, Bosco, I…" she racked her brain for an excuse, but she couldn't find one, except that she didn't want to tell him, which he'd never accept. He'd haunt her until she spilled her guts. He knew how to get to her. He'd needle her for as long as it took to extract the information he wanted. It was his greatest strength when it came to dealing with her. It was also his greatest weakness, because sometimes he found out too much.
"Tell me," he said patiently, "I need to know."
Faith decided that once again, she had no choice. She closed her eyes tight shut for a moment and then opened them again. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and began to explain what happened next.
"They carted you off to surgery and I went to speak to your mom. Once everything was under control in the ER and the prisoners had been arrested or killed, I really don't know which, Cruz somehow got a hold of Yoshi, remember him?" Not waiting for his answer, she continued, "Well, he's the one who sold us all out to Donald Mann. She made Yoshi take her to Mann's place. I overheard them talking, so I got into Jelly's RMP and followed them. I had your off-duty gun from before when I was sitting with you in the lounge to protect us if another shooter came in."
Faith paused and dared to look at Bosco rather than the very small drop of water she'd been focusing on while she'd been talking, and Bosco was looking at her expectantly. She took a sip of her refilled Cosmopolitan before continuing. "When I got there, I waited for Cruz and Yoshi to go inside. I gave them three minutes and then followed them in. Yoshi was handcuffed to the stairs, and told me Cruz had gone up looking for Mann. So I climbed the stairs and was looking in rooms when I heard gunfire from above me. I think Cruz shot at the helicopter that I'd seen flying toward the building through a window. I headed for the roof as fast as I could, and I found Cruz standing there with her gun pointed at Mann. He was saying it wouldn't be over until we were all dead…and…"
"Yeah, I know, he pulled a knife and tried to stab Cruz, so you shot him," Bosco said. "I heard about it later."
"No, Bosco," Faith said, blinking. "That's the lie Cruz and I told to keep ourselves out of trouble…or really, that's the lie Cruz came up with to keep me out of trouble."
"Why would she be trying to keep you out of trouble?"
"Bosco, Cruz was pointing her gun at Mann but she'd gone to put him under arrest…he already had handcuffs on, he was already in custody when I…when I…when I emptied the clip into him," she said hesitantly.
"What do you mean?" he didn't understand. It was too much. It was just too much. He couldn't believe it. There had to be another explanation…
"I mean that he never pulled a knife on Cruz. I mean he was under arrest. I mean that…that…"
"Faith…"
"…I shot him in cold blood, Bosco. He had no knife, no weapon, he was going to come in to the station with Cruz," she continued. "And I shot him anyway."
"You murdered a man?" Bosco's face was unreadable. "You murdered a man?"
"Not just any man. A piece of scum who was a menace to society, who was importing drugs, who had his henchmen shoot up a hospital, who killed two other cops, who killed your brother, who I thought…" she could barely say it. "Who I thought killed you."
Bosco just stared at her in silent disbelief.
"And I wasn't sorry. To this day, I'm still not sorry I shot him," she said, accidentally letting out a sob. She wiped her eyes, which had started watering in spite of her effort to control them, and started talking again. She didn't know what else to do. "He fell into the pool, you know? So Cruz went in and took off the handcuffs and planted the knife. She made up our cover story. I wasn't originally going to follow it, I didn't care what happened to me, but she reminded me I had a family, which I'd forgotten up until that point. I was only thinking about the fact that I thought my partner – my best friend – was dead. Cruz tried to be nice to me, I sort of blew her off…I think I was in shock."
Bosco finally managed to get some words out. "What happened next?"
"Everything was fine for a while, Cruz and I kept quiet obviously, and then a few weeks later IAB – something to do with Sasha Monroe, I don't remember anymore – arrested Cruz for murder. I couldn't let that happen, I couldn't let her go to jail for something I'd done. She was just trying to help me. She went to Rikers for awhile, nearly got killed there from what I understand, but never ratted me out."
"How'd you get her out of it?"
"IAB dragged me away in the middle of a custody hearing to be their witness. I got full immunity. CT Finney himself was in the room to get my statement. They wanted Cruz so bad that they never even considered that I wouldn't give the story they wanted. So I signed the immunity papers. CT Finney signed the papers, I had two witnesses to the signing, they turned the tape on, and…" she took a very deep breath and stopped for a moment to look at Bosco.
He had the look on his face of a kid listening in on the latest piece of gossip at school. "Go on," he encouraged her.
"I confessed everything. Finney called me a liar, but I wouldn't change my story so they had to let us both go, me and Cruz. I met Cruz when she got off the bus from Rikers. It was pouring rain but I waited for her and asked why she never told IAB it was me. She said it was because she didn't rat out cops, no matter who they were or whether she liked them or not. I told her I didn't owe her anything because I didn't ask for anything, and she said that was 'Fair enough.' I gained some respect for her that night though. I didn't like her, but I respected her more than I had before," Faith paused and then said, "You woke up that night. I didn't know it until later, but you woke up that night."
"Is that all?" Bosco asked her weakly. He'd had more than he bargained for. It was too much information to take in at once. It was more than he could handle, both mentally and emotionally, knowing that these two women, Faith Yokas and Maritza Cruz, who mixed about as well as lightning and water, had come together to avenge him and then protected each other from the people who'd put them in prison for it.
"That's the whole story. That's everything. I visited you, and I did my best to help you. I did my best to avenge you, to repay you for what you did for me, but I can't ever do that completely," Faith said sadly.
Bosco nodded and looked down at the table, running his hand near the edge, not saying anything.
Faith took another sip of her Cosmopolitan and then took a deep breath, and then spoke quickly again. "I hope you understand why I did what I did after you got back on the job. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry I nearly got you killed. I'm sorry for everything…I don't expect you to forgive me for what I did after you got back, but I hope you forgive me for why I did it. It wasn't that I didn't believe you or that I thought you were lying or that I thought you had actually cheated at the range. I just panicked, and I'm sorry I behaved the way I did, but I couldn't bare the thought of losing you, Bosco, not again."
Neither of them spoke for quite some time. Faith was certain that Bosco was trying to come up with a way to tell her he hated her guts and never wanted to speak to her again.
Those two words echoed inside her head. Never again. Never again.