TITLE: Do you really want me?
AUTHOR: faithinFaith
E-MAIL: faithinFaithhotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: Nothing of this belongs to me, except for the story idea.
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is the next chapter, and to all your kind people who review this; THANKS you make all the hard work with this language worth the effort! : ) and thanks Joey for everything : ) Thanks also to Bee for the brainstorming help and for putting up with me : )
CHAPTER TEN.
I wake up with a gasp, feeling like I'm on the verge of choking. I start to panic because I feel like crap. It's way too dark, and I have no idea where I am or what's going on. There's shit attached to me everywhere, and I try to get rid of it. At the same time I'm hearing hurried footsteps, and someone opens the door and walks into the room. A woman bends down over me, and I can tell by the way she's dressed that I'm in the hospital. She gently takes hold of my arms, trying to stop me from pulling out the IV and the thing up my nose.
"Shhh, Officer Boscorelli, it's OK. Everything is fine, but you need to stay still."
"Get away from me!" I choke out between ragged breaths, but she doesn't let go. Her gentle but firm grasp keeps my arms pinned down at my sides.
"It's OK, Officer. You're at the hospital, and you're safe. No one can harm you here, but you need to calm down, OK? Otherwise, I'll have to restrain you."
Everything comes back to me, and I feel like an idiot. This is just great. Now she's going to think I'm a nutcase. I try to take a couple of deep breaths in order to calm myself down, and say rudely, "I'm calm now. Take your damn hands off me!"
She looks inquiringly at me as if to determine if I really am calm, and then carefully loosen her grasp.
"Thanks a lot!" I wheeze sarcastically.
Another woman appears in the doorway and asks harshly, "Maria, is everything OK in here?"
"Yeah, it's OK. He's just a bit agitated."
"You need me to get the restrains?"
"No, Kirsten, it's fine. Just give me a couple of minutes, OK?"
"You have five," she answers shortly and leaves.
What a bitch! I look up at the nurse, and prepare myself for the verbal lecture I'm going to get for my rudeness, but nothing happens. Whoever brainwashed this nurse into Florence Nightingale, did a great job, because she just keeps looking kindly at me and asks, "Is it hard to breathe, Officer?"
"Yeah, you figured that one out already?" I answer sarcastically.
Her smile widens a bit as she answers, "Yeah, I'm improving, aren't I? Just try to relax, OK? You're safe here."
"What makes you think I'm not feeling safe?" I ask defensively.
She shrugs, "Just guessing. When my husband wakes up like this, he's usually had a nightmare about being held at gunpoint, shot or choked. I guess I thought it was common among police officers."
I can feel myself relax a bit. This isn't just Florence Nightingale, she actually knows what she's talking about too, and it's good to know that I'm not the only nutcase in the force.
"So, your husband is a cop, huh?"
She nods, and the fondness I see in her eyes at the mere mention of him, reminds me of how Faith used to look at me from time to time - before I screw everything up. A wave of exhaustion sweeps through my body, and I feel like crying. I tiredly close my eyes.
The nurse gently touches my hand and says, "I'm just gonna take your vitals, OK?"
I just nod, and her hands perform the - for me now so familiar - task, and then she asks, "Are you in pain?"
I open my eyes to look at her as I shake my head.
"You nauseous?"
I shake my head once more, and reply, "No, I just don't feel good in general. I'm too hot and uncomfortable. Actually I feel like shit."
She looks at me with compassion filled eyes, "I'm sorry. It's the fever that makes you feel that way."
"And why the hell am I running a fever? I thought I had a bleeding ulcer, not a damn cold."
She smiles, "It's just your body's way to try to help the ulcer to heal."
"Incredibly stupid way," I murmur tiredly.
She chuckles lightly, and takes a paper towel from the shelf. She rinses it under water before handing it over to me. "It's a lot smarter than you think. Here, whip your face with this. It will make you feel better."
I do as I've been told, and I have to admit she's right – I do feel a bit better. I just wish my mouth wasn't so dry. I run my tongue over my cracked lips.
The nurse immediately notices it. "How about I'll go and get you a chap stick and some ice-chips?" she asks kindly.
"Sounds great," I reply.
"I'll be right back then." And with another smile, she's gone.
I close my eyes again and try to rest. This feeling of exhaustion is really starting to piss me off. Suddenly, there are hushed voices outside my room, and then the nurse walks back in again.
She puts the chap stick and a plastic cup with ice-chips on my bedside table and says, "There's an Officer Sullivan outside. He says he wants to talk to you if you're a wake. I know it isn't visiting hours, but I can make an exception for your partner, if you want me to."
Sully. Yeah, well, why not? I need to kill him anyway, so this is very convenient. "Sure, but he isn't my partner."
"No?" She looks a bit surprised. I guess her husband is that kind of cop that is good enough to have - and deserve - a faithful partner.
I shake my head. "No."
"But you still want to see him, right?"
"Yeah."
"OK, but he can only stay for a couple of minutes. You need to rest," she replies and gives me a very concerned look before leaving.
She pauses in the doorway and says to Sully, who's still in the hallway, "Just a couple of minutes. He really needs to rest. He's not doing too well at the moment."
I hear him murmur something in response, and then he walks into the room. He stops a few feet away from my bed. There's a look of worry on his face. It's strange to see such an expression from Sully - he usually looks annoyed when he looks at me.
"So, how are you feeling? The nurse said you aren't doing so good," he asks anxiously.
I ignore the question and reply angrily, "Why the hell did you tell Faith?"
He sounds a bit caught of guard as he answers, "Considering what shape you were in last night, I thought she should know."
"Well, you thought wrong. She has enough shit going on in her life as it is. She doesn't need to worry about me too," I reply harshly.
"How did you find out that I told her? Did she come here?" he asks with a hint of hope in his voice. It makes me wonder what he's hoping for. Why would he care whether or not we made up?
"No, Emily did. You scared the shit out of her too, and she really doesn't need that kind of stress. She's just a kid, and I've done enough to destroy her life as it is. I sure as hell don't need your help. I'm tempted to kill you, you know," I answer, and my voice is strained with anger and pain.
My stomach started to hurt in the same moment I got angry. If that's all it's going to take to make me worse again, then I'm going to kill myself with my temper – that's for sure.
Sully smirks slightly. "Well, just go ahead. You can borrow my gun if you need to."
I just glare angrily at him, and he sighs heavily. "Look, Bosco, I really thought she had the right to know. You would have wanted to know if something had happened to her, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, I would, but that's different. She doesn't care about me anymore, and that's a good thing. She's much better off without me."
Sully looks kindly at me. "You're wrong. She does care, and she said the same thing about you."
"Said what?"
"That you don't care. She was sad about it."
I close my eyes. It hurts to know that once again she's hurting because of me, but I really thought she didn't want me to care anymore. I thought that's why she told me to go away. Maybe Em was right. Maybe she's only doing it to please Fred.
"Come on, Bosco. You two need to stop this right now. You're both miserable without each other. Why don't you just make up and move on?" he coaxes gently.
"You don't understand, Sul. It's complicated," I answer tiredly.
Sully huffs, "You two really are a match made in heaven when it comes to stubbornness and stupidity. That's exactly what she said too, and I really don't see what's so complicated. If it would be better for both of you to be apart, then why are you both miserable right now, huh?"
"It really doesn't matter what we feel. I deserve to feel miserable, and she doesn't understand what's good for her. She never has. If she did, she'd have never partnered up with me in the first place. It would be better for her to forget all about me. All I manage to do is get her in trouble or shot," I state calmly, but inside I'm anything but calm. The anguish is coming back with full force, the pain increases and I'm starting to feel nauseous again when the memories from that horrible night overtake my brain.
"Bosco, you need to forgive yourself," Sully says softly.
"I can't," I reply in a strained voice, because it's starting to get hard to breathe again.
"You have to. Otherwise, you're gonna kill yourself. You heard the doctor."
"Maybe I deserve to die," I answer shakily. Damn it's hard to breathe!
Sully walks up to my bed and sits down on the chair next to it. There's worry and concern written all over his face, and he continues to speak in a soft, almost soothing voice. "No you don't. It wasn't your fault. If there's anyone to blame for this, it's Cruz, and Faith went there willingly, didn't she? You didn't hold a gun to her head, did you?"
I take a couple of shaky breaths to calm myself down before answering. "No I didn't, but it really doesn't matter. She always helps me when I need her to – no matter what, and I should have known better than to drag her into it."
"We all make mistakes, Bosco. We're only human."
"But all I ever do is make mistakes. If you have any common sense, you'd stay the hell away from me before I get you in trouble too."
Sully smirks. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, that's what I've been trying to do for years now."
I glare at him, and shakily reply, "Then why the hell do you care now? Just leave me alone."
God, I feel like shit. I really need to calm down; otherwise the ulcer is going to start bleeding again. I know it. Sully seems to have come to the same conclusion, because he's putting his big paw on my shoulder, and says in a calm, soothing voice that I can't recall ever hearing before, "Calm down, Bosco. You need to relax, OK? Just take deep breaths."
Something in his voice makes me want to do as I'm told, and that really has to be a first. I wonder who's losing his mind, me, for wanting to please him, or him, for wanting to take care of me. I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing, and after a couple of minutes I start to feel better. I can breathe again, and the pain isn't so bad anymore, although I'm still nauseous as hell. When Sully notices I've calmed down, he takes his hand away and starts talking again. His voice is still calm and soothing. "I care because you doesn't deserve this, and because I owe you."
I open my eyes and look at him in surprise, as I ask, "Why do you think you owe me? I've never done anything nice to you."
He smiles sadly, "Yes you have. You helped me, when I tried to kill myself with booze."
When I continue to look confused, he adds, "The cabin, remember?"
The cabin. Yeah, that was really something. He even clocked me that stupid bastard, but again, that's not important. Nothing is.
"That? Just forget about it, OK? You don't owe me a thing. I didn't do it for you anyway. I did it for Davis, and besides, that's different," I state defensively.
Sully just keeps looking calmly at me and asks, "How is it different?"
"It just is, and you can't help me anyway. You don't understand how I feel. You've never gotten your partner shot because of your bad judgment and stupidity."
"That's where you're wrong. I have," Sully replies, with his eyes filled with sadness.
"You have? When?" I ask in disbelief.
"Remember the shoot-out, with Chevchenko?"
I nod.
"Davis and I were there to arrest him for assaulting Tatiana's son. She begged me not to go. She told me he was too dangerous, that I didn't know what I was dealing with - I didn't listen. Davis didn't want to go. He kept begging me to calm down and call for back up. I said no."
"You went in without back up?" I ask in amazement.
Sully smiles sarcastically, "Yeah I did, because all I could think of was to prove to Tatiana that I was man enough to take care of that scum. I wanted to show her so badly that she could feel safe with me, that I - the great cop - could fix anything. I totally lost my judgment, and Davis paid the price for my stupidity – actually they both did. So, you see, Bosco, I do know what you're going through."
The pain in his eyes makes me feel uneasy. I look down at my hands, and reply softly, "At least you didn't have to look his kids in the eyes, knowing it was your fault he almost died."
"No, not this time," he says so quietly I almost can't hear him.
I look at him, "Come on, Sul. It wasn't your fault that Davis' dad died."
"It sure felt that way," he answers in a weary voice, and I feel sorry for the guy.
He's right. He does know what I'm talking about. Actually, he's been through the one thing every one of us fears the most. He has seen his partner die. I wonder how the hell he managed to survive. I know I wouldn't have if Faith hadn't made it that night.
Fiddling with my sheet, I ask quietly, "So, how did you manage to do it?"
"Forgive myself?"
I nod.
He shrugs. "Davis forgave me - twice, and so did his mother. I guess that helped, and for some strange reason I didn't want to die, and when I wanted to, you guys didn't let me. So..."
Faith. She will never forgive me. The pain gets worse again at the thought of it, and I close my eyes as a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. Sully puts his hand back on my shoulder gently but firmly, and says, "She has forgiven you, Bosco."
"You don't know that," I whisper painfully.
"Yes, I do, and if you stop feeling sorry for yourself, and start using your brain, you do too."
'Don't do that again...' I can see the words from the card in front of my eyes, and I know he's right. She has forgiven me, but I still don't know if I'll be able to forgive myself. A new wave of pain runs through my body, and I wince slightly.
"Bosco, you OK?" Sully asks worriedly.
I shake my head and moan. God, it hurts so badly.
"You want me to get the nurse?"
I nod, but keep my eyes closed. He doesn't have to do anything though, because as if on cue, the nurse walks back into the room. "Officer Boscorelli," she asks gently, "What's wrong?"
"I don't feel good. It hurts," I whisper, because it feels like I don't have enough air to speak.
She quickly puts an oxygen mask over my face and checks my blood pressure, and then she looks over at poor Sul, and asks disapprovingly, "How did he get this uptight? I thought I told you he wasn't doing well and needed to rest."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...we were just talking..."
"It doesn't matter. You need to leave now."
Sully quickly stands up, "Bye, Bosco, you get better now, OK?" he says and shifts uneasily.
I take the mask away from my face, and reply, "I'll try, and thanks..."
The nurse puts it back on, and says sternly, "Keep that on, Officer Boscorelli."
Sully nods shortly in response and starts walking towards the door, but the bitch nurse from before blocks his path. She doesn't let him pass, but at the same time she ignores him as she looks over at the other nurse and asks, "Need any help, Maria?"
The nurse looks up from checking the bag attached to my tube, and answers, "Yeah, escort Officer Sullivan to the door, and then page Dr Austin for me, will you?"
"It will be my pleasure," she answers with an evil smile, and pushes poor Sully through the doorway out into the hallway.
I look up at the nurse, remove my mask again and ask, "Am I bleeding again?"
She shakes her head, and gently puts the mask back over my face again. "No, but your fever is too high, and I don't like that you're in so much pain. I'll give you something for it as soon as the doctor has taken a look at you, OK?"
I nod tiredly, and close my eyes.
"That's good, Officer, just try to rest," she says softly. "Do you want me to call your daughter?"
I shoot my eyes open, and look at her, terrified and reply, "No, absolutely not! She doesn't need to know about this."
"Shhh, just calm down. I won't. We'll wait and see how you're doing tomorrow morning, OK?"
I close my eyes again, and try to take deep, calming breaths. I really don't want to die anymore. Sully – along with Faith's card – has given me hope that things may work out after all.
"That's right, just relax and everything is gonna be just fine," the nurse says soothingly, and carefully pats my arm.
When the doctor arrives a couple of minutes later, I'm almost asleep again. He pokes and prods at me, and then he says, "Maria, keep him on oxygen. I'll change his antibiotics, and I want you to give him both some painkillers and sedatives right away, and no visitors for the next 24 hours. We need him to stay calm and rest, otherwise he's gonna end up on the operating table."
"Yes, sir," she answers, and leaves the room to get my medicine.
The doctor looks kindly at me, "You just relax, Officer. We will help you to get well again, but we could really use some help here."
"I know, I'm on it," I murmur tiredly.
The doctor looks pleased. "That's very good. You just rest now, and I'll be back tomorrow."
I nod, and he turns to the nurse, who's back again. "Just page me if he's still awake and in pain in half an hour, OK?"
"Will do," she answers and then starts to inject stuff into my IV-line. When she's done, she pats my arm again and says, "Night, Officer Boscorelli. Sleep tight."
"Night," I murmur sleepily before drifting off to a wonderful, dreamless, drug induced sleep.
AUTHOR: faithinFaith
E-MAIL: faithinFaithhotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: Nothing of this belongs to me, except for the story idea.
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is the next chapter, and to all your kind people who review this; THANKS you make all the hard work with this language worth the effort! : ) and thanks Joey for everything : ) Thanks also to Bee for the brainstorming help and for putting up with me : )
CHAPTER TEN.
I wake up with a gasp, feeling like I'm on the verge of choking. I start to panic because I feel like crap. It's way too dark, and I have no idea where I am or what's going on. There's shit attached to me everywhere, and I try to get rid of it. At the same time I'm hearing hurried footsteps, and someone opens the door and walks into the room. A woman bends down over me, and I can tell by the way she's dressed that I'm in the hospital. She gently takes hold of my arms, trying to stop me from pulling out the IV and the thing up my nose.
"Shhh, Officer Boscorelli, it's OK. Everything is fine, but you need to stay still."
"Get away from me!" I choke out between ragged breaths, but she doesn't let go. Her gentle but firm grasp keeps my arms pinned down at my sides.
"It's OK, Officer. You're at the hospital, and you're safe. No one can harm you here, but you need to calm down, OK? Otherwise, I'll have to restrain you."
Everything comes back to me, and I feel like an idiot. This is just great. Now she's going to think I'm a nutcase. I try to take a couple of deep breaths in order to calm myself down, and say rudely, "I'm calm now. Take your damn hands off me!"
She looks inquiringly at me as if to determine if I really am calm, and then carefully loosen her grasp.
"Thanks a lot!" I wheeze sarcastically.
Another woman appears in the doorway and asks harshly, "Maria, is everything OK in here?"
"Yeah, it's OK. He's just a bit agitated."
"You need me to get the restrains?"
"No, Kirsten, it's fine. Just give me a couple of minutes, OK?"
"You have five," she answers shortly and leaves.
What a bitch! I look up at the nurse, and prepare myself for the verbal lecture I'm going to get for my rudeness, but nothing happens. Whoever brainwashed this nurse into Florence Nightingale, did a great job, because she just keeps looking kindly at me and asks, "Is it hard to breathe, Officer?"
"Yeah, you figured that one out already?" I answer sarcastically.
Her smile widens a bit as she answers, "Yeah, I'm improving, aren't I? Just try to relax, OK? You're safe here."
"What makes you think I'm not feeling safe?" I ask defensively.
She shrugs, "Just guessing. When my husband wakes up like this, he's usually had a nightmare about being held at gunpoint, shot or choked. I guess I thought it was common among police officers."
I can feel myself relax a bit. This isn't just Florence Nightingale, she actually knows what she's talking about too, and it's good to know that I'm not the only nutcase in the force.
"So, your husband is a cop, huh?"
She nods, and the fondness I see in her eyes at the mere mention of him, reminds me of how Faith used to look at me from time to time - before I screw everything up. A wave of exhaustion sweeps through my body, and I feel like crying. I tiredly close my eyes.
The nurse gently touches my hand and says, "I'm just gonna take your vitals, OK?"
I just nod, and her hands perform the - for me now so familiar - task, and then she asks, "Are you in pain?"
I open my eyes to look at her as I shake my head.
"You nauseous?"
I shake my head once more, and reply, "No, I just don't feel good in general. I'm too hot and uncomfortable. Actually I feel like shit."
She looks at me with compassion filled eyes, "I'm sorry. It's the fever that makes you feel that way."
"And why the hell am I running a fever? I thought I had a bleeding ulcer, not a damn cold."
She smiles, "It's just your body's way to try to help the ulcer to heal."
"Incredibly stupid way," I murmur tiredly.
She chuckles lightly, and takes a paper towel from the shelf. She rinses it under water before handing it over to me. "It's a lot smarter than you think. Here, whip your face with this. It will make you feel better."
I do as I've been told, and I have to admit she's right – I do feel a bit better. I just wish my mouth wasn't so dry. I run my tongue over my cracked lips.
The nurse immediately notices it. "How about I'll go and get you a chap stick and some ice-chips?" she asks kindly.
"Sounds great," I reply.
"I'll be right back then." And with another smile, she's gone.
I close my eyes again and try to rest. This feeling of exhaustion is really starting to piss me off. Suddenly, there are hushed voices outside my room, and then the nurse walks back in again.
She puts the chap stick and a plastic cup with ice-chips on my bedside table and says, "There's an Officer Sullivan outside. He says he wants to talk to you if you're a wake. I know it isn't visiting hours, but I can make an exception for your partner, if you want me to."
Sully. Yeah, well, why not? I need to kill him anyway, so this is very convenient. "Sure, but he isn't my partner."
"No?" She looks a bit surprised. I guess her husband is that kind of cop that is good enough to have - and deserve - a faithful partner.
I shake my head. "No."
"But you still want to see him, right?"
"Yeah."
"OK, but he can only stay for a couple of minutes. You need to rest," she replies and gives me a very concerned look before leaving.
She pauses in the doorway and says to Sully, who's still in the hallway, "Just a couple of minutes. He really needs to rest. He's not doing too well at the moment."
I hear him murmur something in response, and then he walks into the room. He stops a few feet away from my bed. There's a look of worry on his face. It's strange to see such an expression from Sully - he usually looks annoyed when he looks at me.
"So, how are you feeling? The nurse said you aren't doing so good," he asks anxiously.
I ignore the question and reply angrily, "Why the hell did you tell Faith?"
He sounds a bit caught of guard as he answers, "Considering what shape you were in last night, I thought she should know."
"Well, you thought wrong. She has enough shit going on in her life as it is. She doesn't need to worry about me too," I reply harshly.
"How did you find out that I told her? Did she come here?" he asks with a hint of hope in his voice. It makes me wonder what he's hoping for. Why would he care whether or not we made up?
"No, Emily did. You scared the shit out of her too, and she really doesn't need that kind of stress. She's just a kid, and I've done enough to destroy her life as it is. I sure as hell don't need your help. I'm tempted to kill you, you know," I answer, and my voice is strained with anger and pain.
My stomach started to hurt in the same moment I got angry. If that's all it's going to take to make me worse again, then I'm going to kill myself with my temper – that's for sure.
Sully smirks slightly. "Well, just go ahead. You can borrow my gun if you need to."
I just glare angrily at him, and he sighs heavily. "Look, Bosco, I really thought she had the right to know. You would have wanted to know if something had happened to her, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, I would, but that's different. She doesn't care about me anymore, and that's a good thing. She's much better off without me."
Sully looks kindly at me. "You're wrong. She does care, and she said the same thing about you."
"Said what?"
"That you don't care. She was sad about it."
I close my eyes. It hurts to know that once again she's hurting because of me, but I really thought she didn't want me to care anymore. I thought that's why she told me to go away. Maybe Em was right. Maybe she's only doing it to please Fred.
"Come on, Bosco. You two need to stop this right now. You're both miserable without each other. Why don't you just make up and move on?" he coaxes gently.
"You don't understand, Sul. It's complicated," I answer tiredly.
Sully huffs, "You two really are a match made in heaven when it comes to stubbornness and stupidity. That's exactly what she said too, and I really don't see what's so complicated. If it would be better for both of you to be apart, then why are you both miserable right now, huh?"
"It really doesn't matter what we feel. I deserve to feel miserable, and she doesn't understand what's good for her. She never has. If she did, she'd have never partnered up with me in the first place. It would be better for her to forget all about me. All I manage to do is get her in trouble or shot," I state calmly, but inside I'm anything but calm. The anguish is coming back with full force, the pain increases and I'm starting to feel nauseous again when the memories from that horrible night overtake my brain.
"Bosco, you need to forgive yourself," Sully says softly.
"I can't," I reply in a strained voice, because it's starting to get hard to breathe again.
"You have to. Otherwise, you're gonna kill yourself. You heard the doctor."
"Maybe I deserve to die," I answer shakily. Damn it's hard to breathe!
Sully walks up to my bed and sits down on the chair next to it. There's worry and concern written all over his face, and he continues to speak in a soft, almost soothing voice. "No you don't. It wasn't your fault. If there's anyone to blame for this, it's Cruz, and Faith went there willingly, didn't she? You didn't hold a gun to her head, did you?"
I take a couple of shaky breaths to calm myself down before answering. "No I didn't, but it really doesn't matter. She always helps me when I need her to – no matter what, and I should have known better than to drag her into it."
"We all make mistakes, Bosco. We're only human."
"But all I ever do is make mistakes. If you have any common sense, you'd stay the hell away from me before I get you in trouble too."
Sully smirks. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, that's what I've been trying to do for years now."
I glare at him, and shakily reply, "Then why the hell do you care now? Just leave me alone."
God, I feel like shit. I really need to calm down; otherwise the ulcer is going to start bleeding again. I know it. Sully seems to have come to the same conclusion, because he's putting his big paw on my shoulder, and says in a calm, soothing voice that I can't recall ever hearing before, "Calm down, Bosco. You need to relax, OK? Just take deep breaths."
Something in his voice makes me want to do as I'm told, and that really has to be a first. I wonder who's losing his mind, me, for wanting to please him, or him, for wanting to take care of me. I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing, and after a couple of minutes I start to feel better. I can breathe again, and the pain isn't so bad anymore, although I'm still nauseous as hell. When Sully notices I've calmed down, he takes his hand away and starts talking again. His voice is still calm and soothing. "I care because you doesn't deserve this, and because I owe you."
I open my eyes and look at him in surprise, as I ask, "Why do you think you owe me? I've never done anything nice to you."
He smiles sadly, "Yes you have. You helped me, when I tried to kill myself with booze."
When I continue to look confused, he adds, "The cabin, remember?"
The cabin. Yeah, that was really something. He even clocked me that stupid bastard, but again, that's not important. Nothing is.
"That? Just forget about it, OK? You don't owe me a thing. I didn't do it for you anyway. I did it for Davis, and besides, that's different," I state defensively.
Sully just keeps looking calmly at me and asks, "How is it different?"
"It just is, and you can't help me anyway. You don't understand how I feel. You've never gotten your partner shot because of your bad judgment and stupidity."
"That's where you're wrong. I have," Sully replies, with his eyes filled with sadness.
"You have? When?" I ask in disbelief.
"Remember the shoot-out, with Chevchenko?"
I nod.
"Davis and I were there to arrest him for assaulting Tatiana's son. She begged me not to go. She told me he was too dangerous, that I didn't know what I was dealing with - I didn't listen. Davis didn't want to go. He kept begging me to calm down and call for back up. I said no."
"You went in without back up?" I ask in amazement.
Sully smiles sarcastically, "Yeah I did, because all I could think of was to prove to Tatiana that I was man enough to take care of that scum. I wanted to show her so badly that she could feel safe with me, that I - the great cop - could fix anything. I totally lost my judgment, and Davis paid the price for my stupidity – actually they both did. So, you see, Bosco, I do know what you're going through."
The pain in his eyes makes me feel uneasy. I look down at my hands, and reply softly, "At least you didn't have to look his kids in the eyes, knowing it was your fault he almost died."
"No, not this time," he says so quietly I almost can't hear him.
I look at him, "Come on, Sul. It wasn't your fault that Davis' dad died."
"It sure felt that way," he answers in a weary voice, and I feel sorry for the guy.
He's right. He does know what I'm talking about. Actually, he's been through the one thing every one of us fears the most. He has seen his partner die. I wonder how the hell he managed to survive. I know I wouldn't have if Faith hadn't made it that night.
Fiddling with my sheet, I ask quietly, "So, how did you manage to do it?"
"Forgive myself?"
I nod.
He shrugs. "Davis forgave me - twice, and so did his mother. I guess that helped, and for some strange reason I didn't want to die, and when I wanted to, you guys didn't let me. So..."
Faith. She will never forgive me. The pain gets worse again at the thought of it, and I close my eyes as a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. Sully puts his hand back on my shoulder gently but firmly, and says, "She has forgiven you, Bosco."
"You don't know that," I whisper painfully.
"Yes, I do, and if you stop feeling sorry for yourself, and start using your brain, you do too."
'Don't do that again...' I can see the words from the card in front of my eyes, and I know he's right. She has forgiven me, but I still don't know if I'll be able to forgive myself. A new wave of pain runs through my body, and I wince slightly.
"Bosco, you OK?" Sully asks worriedly.
I shake my head and moan. God, it hurts so badly.
"You want me to get the nurse?"
I nod, but keep my eyes closed. He doesn't have to do anything though, because as if on cue, the nurse walks back into the room. "Officer Boscorelli," she asks gently, "What's wrong?"
"I don't feel good. It hurts," I whisper, because it feels like I don't have enough air to speak.
She quickly puts an oxygen mask over my face and checks my blood pressure, and then she looks over at poor Sul, and asks disapprovingly, "How did he get this uptight? I thought I told you he wasn't doing well and needed to rest."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...we were just talking..."
"It doesn't matter. You need to leave now."
Sully quickly stands up, "Bye, Bosco, you get better now, OK?" he says and shifts uneasily.
I take the mask away from my face, and reply, "I'll try, and thanks..."
The nurse puts it back on, and says sternly, "Keep that on, Officer Boscorelli."
Sully nods shortly in response and starts walking towards the door, but the bitch nurse from before blocks his path. She doesn't let him pass, but at the same time she ignores him as she looks over at the other nurse and asks, "Need any help, Maria?"
The nurse looks up from checking the bag attached to my tube, and answers, "Yeah, escort Officer Sullivan to the door, and then page Dr Austin for me, will you?"
"It will be my pleasure," she answers with an evil smile, and pushes poor Sully through the doorway out into the hallway.
I look up at the nurse, remove my mask again and ask, "Am I bleeding again?"
She shakes her head, and gently puts the mask back over my face again. "No, but your fever is too high, and I don't like that you're in so much pain. I'll give you something for it as soon as the doctor has taken a look at you, OK?"
I nod tiredly, and close my eyes.
"That's good, Officer, just try to rest," she says softly. "Do you want me to call your daughter?"
I shoot my eyes open, and look at her, terrified and reply, "No, absolutely not! She doesn't need to know about this."
"Shhh, just calm down. I won't. We'll wait and see how you're doing tomorrow morning, OK?"
I close my eyes again, and try to take deep, calming breaths. I really don't want to die anymore. Sully – along with Faith's card – has given me hope that things may work out after all.
"That's right, just relax and everything is gonna be just fine," the nurse says soothingly, and carefully pats my arm.
When the doctor arrives a couple of minutes later, I'm almost asleep again. He pokes and prods at me, and then he says, "Maria, keep him on oxygen. I'll change his antibiotics, and I want you to give him both some painkillers and sedatives right away, and no visitors for the next 24 hours. We need him to stay calm and rest, otherwise he's gonna end up on the operating table."
"Yes, sir," she answers, and leaves the room to get my medicine.
The doctor looks kindly at me, "You just relax, Officer. We will help you to get well again, but we could really use some help here."
"I know, I'm on it," I murmur tiredly.
The doctor looks pleased. "That's very good. You just rest now, and I'll be back tomorrow."
I nod, and he turns to the nurse, who's back again. "Just page me if he's still awake and in pain in half an hour, OK?"
"Will do," she answers and then starts to inject stuff into my IV-line. When she's done, she pats my arm again and says, "Night, Officer Boscorelli. Sleep tight."
"Night," I murmur sleepily before drifting off to a wonderful, dreamless, drug induced sleep.