TITLE: Do you really want me?
AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this.
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just wanted to reassure you all that starting to doubt it, that this will be a happy shipper story before it's over. But as we all know, life is complicated, and no body is as good at making it worse as Bosco and Faith ; )
Thanks to Joey and Bee for all the help and support. I would be lost without you : ) and thanks a lot for the reviews :D They mean all the difference in the world. : )
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as I'm alone in the locker room I walk over to the bench and sit down. I put my head in my hands, and try to fight the wave of nausea that washes over me. I know I'm doomed, and so is Faith. I've lost my chance to keep her safe, because she keeps insisting that she wants to ride with me. Well, she said it wasn't a matter of want, but what else is there? Need, maybe? But she definitely doesn't need me. What she needs is to stay away. I can't believe she hasn't learned her lesson yet - being with me is nothing but trouble.
I know that she probably thinks that I'm a jerk, and that I don't care about whether she's back or not, but that isn't true. She has no idea what seeing her in the locker room did to me. It was amazing. When I saw her standing by her locker, about to change into her uniform, talking to me, I felt like the world started to move again for the first time since she got shot. Like it had just been on hold, waiting for her to come back.
I take a deep breath, trying to breathe through a way of pain, but it doesn't help. Instead it increases, and I'm overwhelmed with nausea. I quickly make my way over to the toilet stalls, and kneel down on the floor in front of the toilet as I throw up. It hurts like hell. When I'm done; I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, lean back against the wall and close my eyes. Yeah, that's right. I'm sick again, which just confirms how useless I am to Faith. I promised her I wouldn't do that again, and it turned out to be nothing but another damn lie. I can't help it, though. I'm weak like a damn girl nowadays. It doesn't take much stress to make the pain and the nausea to start all over again, but it has always stopped there - until today. I hardly slept at all last night because of what she said to me at the restaurant, and today - with all the stuff going on with my mother - just added to it. I couldn't keep her safe, and now I've lost my last chance to keep Faith safe. I know she's going to get hurt again, because I know I'll screw up again. I always do. It's just a matter of time, and then I'll have to kill myself. There's no way I'd be able to live through that again, but that isn't really a problem. The ulcer is going to take care of the killing part for me.
I have no idea why she wants to be with me so badly. She should avoid me, like I had the plague, but for some reason she's never understood that. I guess I could refuse...but no, I can't do that to her. I've never been able to deny her anything, and I owe her everything. So if she wants to ride with me, then that's how it's going to be. It's like she said; it's not a matter of want – at least not for me. Maybe she really has forgiven me and wants to fix things, or maybe she only wants to torture me. But if that's the case, it's OK. I deserve anything I get.
I hear the door to the locker room open, and I realize that I can't stay in here forever. I slowly stand up, feeling a bit shaky, and check the contents in the toilet for blood before I flush. There isn't any, and that's a good thing. I really don't feel like spending any more time in the hospital. Maybe I should go and see a doctor tomorrow – ask him to increases my medication or something – then maybe I'll at least be able to keep one promise to Faith. I open the door and walk over to the sink to wash my hands. I also splash some water on my face in an attempt to feel better.
"Hey, Bos, you OK?"
It's Davis voice and he sounds worried. Shit.
"I'm fine," I answer defensively.
"You sure? You don't look so hot."
"Yeah, I'm sure. Just leave me alone," I answer rudely.
Davis puts his hands in the air. "OK, OK, calm down, man. There's no need to get angry. I was just checking."
I just glare at him, and he leaves the room without another word. This is just great. There's no doubt that he's going to run straight to Sully, telling him I look sick. Then Sully's going to start fussing around, and I don't know how much more concern I can take. Monroe's already asked me how I'm feeling twice today, and that's more than enough. I hate that everyone thinks I'm going to shatter into pieces any moment, but this is just how weak and pathetic I've become lately. People around me aren't worrying about me getting in trouble anymore; they are worrying that I'm going to break down.
I slump down on the bench again, hugging myself, as a new wave of pain radiates through my stomach. I close my eyes and try to block out the pain. This is not good; I'm really starting to feel like shit. The door swings open again, and the heavy footsteps tell me it's Sully who's coming. Great, just great, now he's going to get on my case.
I can feel the bench bend under his weight as he sits down next to me. "You OK, Bosco?" he asks kindly.
I open my eyes to look at him, and answer, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure? You don't look so good," he states patiently, with that soft voice he used in the hospital, the one that makes me want to do as I'm told.
"I'm just tired," I answer, and close my eyes, trying to ignore another wave of pain.
I can feel Sully's eyes on me, and then he asks softly, "Bosco, is your stomach bothering you again?"
I shake my head.
"Bosco!" he says sternly.
I open my mouth to answer him, but I'm overtaken with nausea. Once again, I run to the toilet, and this time I barely make it in time. When I'm done, I sit back against the wall and try to breathe.
Sully crouches down in front of me, looks inquiringly at me and asks, "Feeling better?"
I nod.
"Did you get sick earlier, too? When Davis was in here?"
I nod again.
He stands up, and looks down into the toilet before flushing, and I can hear him murmuring something. I stand up, too, and make a repeat performance of washing my hands and face. Then I return to the bench and close my eyes, as I sit down and lean my head against my locker. Sully follows me and sits down beside me again.
"How long have you been throwing up?"
"Only these two times tonight."
"Are you lying to me?" There's a hint of warning in his voice.
I shake my head.
"There wasn't any blood in it this time, how about the last time?"
"Nothing."
"You sure?"
I nod.
"What's going on, Bosco?" he asks softly.
"What do you mean?"
"Something must have happened to make you so upset that you're sick again," he states calmly.
"It's nothing," I answer tiredly, shivering slightly. Damn it! I really hope I'm not getting the fever back, too, because that part really sucked.
Sully looks worriedly at me. "Maybe I should drive you to Mercy."
I shake my head furiously. "No, no, Sul. I'm gonna be fine. I just need some rest, OK? I'm taking my meds, and I'll call my doctor tomorrow, I promise."
He looks hesitatingly at me for a few moments, before nodding his head in agreement. "OK, but you need to go home."
"I know, and I will. I'm not working today anyway."
If that surprises him, he doesn't show it. "You need a lift?"
I shake my head. "No. I have my own car. I'll be fine."
He nods his head in agreement again, and continues, "So, wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"No, not really," I murmur and look down at my hands. God, he's stubborn. Why can't he just let it go? He ought to know by now that I don't like talking to people.
"I saw Faith walking out of here a little while ago. Does she have anything to do with you getting sick again?"
"Maybe."
He sighs heavily and asks tiredly, "Did you two have another fight?"
"No."
"Then what did she say to make you this upset?"
I look up and meet his eyes. "She wants to ride with me again."
Sully smiles. "I told you; she's forgiven you."
"I wish she hadn't," I reply quietly.
"What?" he asks in surprise.
"I don't want her to ride with me."
"Why's that?"
"Because I'm gonna get her killed!" I almost shout in frustration.
He raises his eyebrows. "Really? What's your plan?"
I glare at him. "That's so not funny, Sullivan! I'm serious. It isn't safe for her to be around me. I know she's gonna get hurt again – or even end up dead - if she's around me!"
"How come you're so sure about that? You clairvoyant, or something?"
He sounds amused, and I suddenly feel completely drained. Why do I even try? I should have known he doesn't really care about me. I should have known he was going to make fun of me. I should have known no one could really understand how hard this is for me.
I put my head in my hands and tiredly murmur, "Never mind, you'll never understand anyway."
"Bosco," Sully says softly, with regret in his voice, putting his hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you, but you need to give yourself a break. It isn't more dangerous for her to ride with you than anyone else."
"Yes it is."
"What makes you think that?"
I sigh heavily and rub my eyes. I can't believe how slow he is today. He's been in my shoes, and he knows me. He should know it's just a matter of time before I do something stupid again.
"Because I'm a hotheaded, bigoted, immature jerk, who never thinks until it's too late? Isn't that what you always says?"
"You have changed, Bosco," he replies softly.
I look at him in surprise. "I have?"
He smiles slightly. "Yes, you have. You act more mature, and you have calmed down."
I contemplate his statement for a couple of minutes before answering, "It doesn't matter. I'm gonna slip sooner or later - I always do - and then she's gonna get hurt again because of me, and I can't take that, Sully. I just can't!"
I can hear the desperation in my voice, and it takes all I have not to cry when I say it. The memories from that night come back again, and the pain they create in my heart and stomach make me feel dizzy. I put my head back in my hands, and try to take deep breaths. I feel sick as hell, but I don't want to puke again. I need to get myself under control. I can't continue to be this weak if I'm going to be able to take care of, and protect, Faith properly. The pain increases again, and I close my eyes tightly, feeling myself shivering.
"Bosco? You OK?" Sully asks worriedly.
I lift my head and look at him as I answer, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"No, you're not," he says, the worry in his voice increasing, "Come on, I'll take you to Mercy."
"No," I reply stubbornly.
"Come on, Bosco. You don't wanna end up dead, do you?"
"I won't. I'll be fine. I promised Faith I wouldn't do it again," I answer calmly.
Sully smiles slightly, and looks almost fondly at me. "You did, huh?"
I nod.
There's a short silence before he continues, "Maybe you should look at it as a second chance."
I stare at him in confusion. "What?"
"Riding with Faith, maybe you should look at it as a chance to do things right the second time around."
I tiredly rub my eyes again. "Why would I deserve a second chance, and what has Faith done to deserve to be in hell again?"
"Everybody deserves a second chance, Bosco, and Faith is a smart lady. Maybe giving you a second chance is her way of saying I'm sorry."
I look angrily at him. "She has nothing to be sorry for!"
Sully smiles. "Whatever, you know what I mean."
We sit in silence for a while. Me, thinking about what he said, and trying to fight the waves of pain running through my body, Sully, watching me in silence, probably trying to decide if I'm OK, or if he's going to start bugging me about taking me to the hospital again. Finally I'm starting to feel better, and I know Sully sees it, too, because he's suddenly looking relieved, and then he says, "Let me at least take you home."
The truth is that I'm grateful for the offer, because I really don't feel like driving right now. I'm exhausted, and my whole body feels like Jello. I can't let him know that, though, because then I'm probably going to end up in the hospital.
So, instead I look annoyed as I ask, "Is that gonna make you stop fussing around like you're my mother?"
Sully makes a face. I have a feeling he doesn't like the metaphor.
"Yeah, it will," he answers, suddenly sounding grumpy.
I can't help but smile - that's the Sully I know.
"OK, let me just gather my things," I reply, suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to be alone.
Sully senses it and answers, "OK, I'll wait for you outside," and starts to leave the room, but pauses in the doorway and says, "And Bosco...."
I look up at him. "Yeah?"
"She's safe with you. She always has been. If I had thought otherwise, I would have talked Swersky into breaking you up long ago."
And with that, he leaves the room, leaving me to stare after him. If Sully really thinks I'm able to protect her, then maybe things will work out after all.
TBC....
AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this.
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just wanted to reassure you all that starting to doubt it, that this will be a happy shipper story before it's over. But as we all know, life is complicated, and no body is as good at making it worse as Bosco and Faith ; )
Thanks to Joey and Bee for all the help and support. I would be lost without you : ) and thanks a lot for the reviews :D They mean all the difference in the world. : )
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as I'm alone in the locker room I walk over to the bench and sit down. I put my head in my hands, and try to fight the wave of nausea that washes over me. I know I'm doomed, and so is Faith. I've lost my chance to keep her safe, because she keeps insisting that she wants to ride with me. Well, she said it wasn't a matter of want, but what else is there? Need, maybe? But she definitely doesn't need me. What she needs is to stay away. I can't believe she hasn't learned her lesson yet - being with me is nothing but trouble.
I know that she probably thinks that I'm a jerk, and that I don't care about whether she's back or not, but that isn't true. She has no idea what seeing her in the locker room did to me. It was amazing. When I saw her standing by her locker, about to change into her uniform, talking to me, I felt like the world started to move again for the first time since she got shot. Like it had just been on hold, waiting for her to come back.
I take a deep breath, trying to breathe through a way of pain, but it doesn't help. Instead it increases, and I'm overwhelmed with nausea. I quickly make my way over to the toilet stalls, and kneel down on the floor in front of the toilet as I throw up. It hurts like hell. When I'm done; I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, lean back against the wall and close my eyes. Yeah, that's right. I'm sick again, which just confirms how useless I am to Faith. I promised her I wouldn't do that again, and it turned out to be nothing but another damn lie. I can't help it, though. I'm weak like a damn girl nowadays. It doesn't take much stress to make the pain and the nausea to start all over again, but it has always stopped there - until today. I hardly slept at all last night because of what she said to me at the restaurant, and today - with all the stuff going on with my mother - just added to it. I couldn't keep her safe, and now I've lost my last chance to keep Faith safe. I know she's going to get hurt again, because I know I'll screw up again. I always do. It's just a matter of time, and then I'll have to kill myself. There's no way I'd be able to live through that again, but that isn't really a problem. The ulcer is going to take care of the killing part for me.
I have no idea why she wants to be with me so badly. She should avoid me, like I had the plague, but for some reason she's never understood that. I guess I could refuse...but no, I can't do that to her. I've never been able to deny her anything, and I owe her everything. So if she wants to ride with me, then that's how it's going to be. It's like she said; it's not a matter of want – at least not for me. Maybe she really has forgiven me and wants to fix things, or maybe she only wants to torture me. But if that's the case, it's OK. I deserve anything I get.
I hear the door to the locker room open, and I realize that I can't stay in here forever. I slowly stand up, feeling a bit shaky, and check the contents in the toilet for blood before I flush. There isn't any, and that's a good thing. I really don't feel like spending any more time in the hospital. Maybe I should go and see a doctor tomorrow – ask him to increases my medication or something – then maybe I'll at least be able to keep one promise to Faith. I open the door and walk over to the sink to wash my hands. I also splash some water on my face in an attempt to feel better.
"Hey, Bos, you OK?"
It's Davis voice and he sounds worried. Shit.
"I'm fine," I answer defensively.
"You sure? You don't look so hot."
"Yeah, I'm sure. Just leave me alone," I answer rudely.
Davis puts his hands in the air. "OK, OK, calm down, man. There's no need to get angry. I was just checking."
I just glare at him, and he leaves the room without another word. This is just great. There's no doubt that he's going to run straight to Sully, telling him I look sick. Then Sully's going to start fussing around, and I don't know how much more concern I can take. Monroe's already asked me how I'm feeling twice today, and that's more than enough. I hate that everyone thinks I'm going to shatter into pieces any moment, but this is just how weak and pathetic I've become lately. People around me aren't worrying about me getting in trouble anymore; they are worrying that I'm going to break down.
I slump down on the bench again, hugging myself, as a new wave of pain radiates through my stomach. I close my eyes and try to block out the pain. This is not good; I'm really starting to feel like shit. The door swings open again, and the heavy footsteps tell me it's Sully who's coming. Great, just great, now he's going to get on my case.
I can feel the bench bend under his weight as he sits down next to me. "You OK, Bosco?" he asks kindly.
I open my eyes to look at him, and answer, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure? You don't look so good," he states patiently, with that soft voice he used in the hospital, the one that makes me want to do as I'm told.
"I'm just tired," I answer, and close my eyes, trying to ignore another wave of pain.
I can feel Sully's eyes on me, and then he asks softly, "Bosco, is your stomach bothering you again?"
I shake my head.
"Bosco!" he says sternly.
I open my mouth to answer him, but I'm overtaken with nausea. Once again, I run to the toilet, and this time I barely make it in time. When I'm done, I sit back against the wall and try to breathe.
Sully crouches down in front of me, looks inquiringly at me and asks, "Feeling better?"
I nod.
"Did you get sick earlier, too? When Davis was in here?"
I nod again.
He stands up, and looks down into the toilet before flushing, and I can hear him murmuring something. I stand up, too, and make a repeat performance of washing my hands and face. Then I return to the bench and close my eyes, as I sit down and lean my head against my locker. Sully follows me and sits down beside me again.
"How long have you been throwing up?"
"Only these two times tonight."
"Are you lying to me?" There's a hint of warning in his voice.
I shake my head.
"There wasn't any blood in it this time, how about the last time?"
"Nothing."
"You sure?"
I nod.
"What's going on, Bosco?" he asks softly.
"What do you mean?"
"Something must have happened to make you so upset that you're sick again," he states calmly.
"It's nothing," I answer tiredly, shivering slightly. Damn it! I really hope I'm not getting the fever back, too, because that part really sucked.
Sully looks worriedly at me. "Maybe I should drive you to Mercy."
I shake my head furiously. "No, no, Sul. I'm gonna be fine. I just need some rest, OK? I'm taking my meds, and I'll call my doctor tomorrow, I promise."
He looks hesitatingly at me for a few moments, before nodding his head in agreement. "OK, but you need to go home."
"I know, and I will. I'm not working today anyway."
If that surprises him, he doesn't show it. "You need a lift?"
I shake my head. "No. I have my own car. I'll be fine."
He nods his head in agreement again, and continues, "So, wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"No, not really," I murmur and look down at my hands. God, he's stubborn. Why can't he just let it go? He ought to know by now that I don't like talking to people.
"I saw Faith walking out of here a little while ago. Does she have anything to do with you getting sick again?"
"Maybe."
He sighs heavily and asks tiredly, "Did you two have another fight?"
"No."
"Then what did she say to make you this upset?"
I look up and meet his eyes. "She wants to ride with me again."
Sully smiles. "I told you; she's forgiven you."
"I wish she hadn't," I reply quietly.
"What?" he asks in surprise.
"I don't want her to ride with me."
"Why's that?"
"Because I'm gonna get her killed!" I almost shout in frustration.
He raises his eyebrows. "Really? What's your plan?"
I glare at him. "That's so not funny, Sullivan! I'm serious. It isn't safe for her to be around me. I know she's gonna get hurt again – or even end up dead - if she's around me!"
"How come you're so sure about that? You clairvoyant, or something?"
He sounds amused, and I suddenly feel completely drained. Why do I even try? I should have known he doesn't really care about me. I should have known he was going to make fun of me. I should have known no one could really understand how hard this is for me.
I put my head in my hands and tiredly murmur, "Never mind, you'll never understand anyway."
"Bosco," Sully says softly, with regret in his voice, putting his hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you, but you need to give yourself a break. It isn't more dangerous for her to ride with you than anyone else."
"Yes it is."
"What makes you think that?"
I sigh heavily and rub my eyes. I can't believe how slow he is today. He's been in my shoes, and he knows me. He should know it's just a matter of time before I do something stupid again.
"Because I'm a hotheaded, bigoted, immature jerk, who never thinks until it's too late? Isn't that what you always says?"
"You have changed, Bosco," he replies softly.
I look at him in surprise. "I have?"
He smiles slightly. "Yes, you have. You act more mature, and you have calmed down."
I contemplate his statement for a couple of minutes before answering, "It doesn't matter. I'm gonna slip sooner or later - I always do - and then she's gonna get hurt again because of me, and I can't take that, Sully. I just can't!"
I can hear the desperation in my voice, and it takes all I have not to cry when I say it. The memories from that night come back again, and the pain they create in my heart and stomach make me feel dizzy. I put my head back in my hands, and try to take deep breaths. I feel sick as hell, but I don't want to puke again. I need to get myself under control. I can't continue to be this weak if I'm going to be able to take care of, and protect, Faith properly. The pain increases again, and I close my eyes tightly, feeling myself shivering.
"Bosco? You OK?" Sully asks worriedly.
I lift my head and look at him as I answer, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"No, you're not," he says, the worry in his voice increasing, "Come on, I'll take you to Mercy."
"No," I reply stubbornly.
"Come on, Bosco. You don't wanna end up dead, do you?"
"I won't. I'll be fine. I promised Faith I wouldn't do it again," I answer calmly.
Sully smiles slightly, and looks almost fondly at me. "You did, huh?"
I nod.
There's a short silence before he continues, "Maybe you should look at it as a second chance."
I stare at him in confusion. "What?"
"Riding with Faith, maybe you should look at it as a chance to do things right the second time around."
I tiredly rub my eyes again. "Why would I deserve a second chance, and what has Faith done to deserve to be in hell again?"
"Everybody deserves a second chance, Bosco, and Faith is a smart lady. Maybe giving you a second chance is her way of saying I'm sorry."
I look angrily at him. "She has nothing to be sorry for!"
Sully smiles. "Whatever, you know what I mean."
We sit in silence for a while. Me, thinking about what he said, and trying to fight the waves of pain running through my body, Sully, watching me in silence, probably trying to decide if I'm OK, or if he's going to start bugging me about taking me to the hospital again. Finally I'm starting to feel better, and I know Sully sees it, too, because he's suddenly looking relieved, and then he says, "Let me at least take you home."
The truth is that I'm grateful for the offer, because I really don't feel like driving right now. I'm exhausted, and my whole body feels like Jello. I can't let him know that, though, because then I'm probably going to end up in the hospital.
So, instead I look annoyed as I ask, "Is that gonna make you stop fussing around like you're my mother?"
Sully makes a face. I have a feeling he doesn't like the metaphor.
"Yeah, it will," he answers, suddenly sounding grumpy.
I can't help but smile - that's the Sully I know.
"OK, let me just gather my things," I reply, suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to be alone.
Sully senses it and answers, "OK, I'll wait for you outside," and starts to leave the room, but pauses in the doorway and says, "And Bosco...."
I look up at him. "Yeah?"
"She's safe with you. She always has been. If I had thought otherwise, I would have talked Swersky into breaking you up long ago."
And with that, he leaves the room, leaving me to stare after him. If Sully really thinks I'm able to protect her, then maybe things will work out after all.
TBC....