Chapter Seven: Clear Vision
Special Thanks: CCA and Laurie for reading over it and helping me! You guys rock! Also to all of you who have sent replies and reviews..I can't thank you enough.
Disclaimer: Still don't own them!
Responses to reviewers can be found at the end of this chapter.
Deep Blue Chapter Seven: Clear Vision
This can't be happening, this can't be real. Finney put his head in his hands as he sat on a small park bench inside some trees at Central Park. He could hear footsteps pass him, he could hear the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, and he could feel the cold New York air nipping at him. Snow was in the forecast, and any idiot could tell by the weather change.
He looked up, seeing how many people were staring at him, this poor wretch of a man sitting alone, not handling whatever problems he was facing. To his surprise though, no one even noticed. Everyone just walked by, minding their own business not even to see him. He shouldn't have been alarmed. It was New York, a place where a person could get mugged or kidnapped and people would "not notice".
He leaned back against the cold metal, looking up at the clouds. What am I doing sitting here? He stood up, making his way through a small crowd of younger children being escorted by what looked like their teacher. His next stop would be his mother's house. He was sure she knew of what happened, and he needed to make sure she was being strong about the situation.
Bosco stared down at some paperwork he had been working on for the past half-hour. For some reason everything was coming hard to him, as if he was working on some ill-fated math formula.
"Lieu, I'm gonna take a lunch."
Swersky didn't look up but nodded. "Don't be late coming back, I have a whole stack here I need you to file."
"Yeah yeah." He walked out, avoiding practically everyone, but mainly Faith. He still didn't understand why she thought he needed help. He was just having a bad week, or bad month for that matter.
He walked out onto the street, taking a moment before he began to make his way into the cluster of people, all that seemed to be in a hurry. He blended in, but was not sure where he was headed. He wasn't even hungry, but he needed a break from the stuffy desk and the mounds of paperwork that seemed to be growing rather than making a dent in the work.
He made his way down several blocks and ended up near Central Park. This was where he used to go jogging, back before he got shot and could actually run decent. Now he pretty much had to rely on others. His endurance was down and his body ended up hurting from it, though he'd never admit that to anyone.
He looked down at the sidewalk, and when he glanced back up he thought he saw Finney down the street, but hesitated. He squinted his eyes, and sure enough Finney was walking in a fast pace. Bosco caught up to him, grabbing his arm to gain his attention.
"What the he…" Finney turned around abruptly, noticing it was a familiar face. "Bosco?"
"You alright?"
Finney took in a deep breath. "Let's see, I just found out that my dad was murdered. How would you feel?"
Bosco tossed that question around in his head. How would I feel? "Honestly I'm not sure how I'd feel. My dad wasn't a big part in my life." He cut it off at that, not wanting to let Finney in on any more of his childhood hell that he went through.
Finney showed no emotion as he stared out into the street. "I'm waiting on a taxi. They never seem to be around when you need them. 10 million when you don't need them."
"Drive your car."
Finney flashed a confused look towards him. "What?"
"Why don't you just hop in your car?"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's in the shop." He looked left to right, growing really awkward. "What exactly do you want Bosco?" The question came out harsher than he intended it to.
"I was on my lunch, I saw you walking. I don't want anything." Bosco began to walk away but Finney called him back. "Bosco."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks." Finney tried to be sincere, as best as he could. It wasn't his strong suit.
"For what?"
Finney shrugged. "Just wanted to say that. Take it or leave it." And with that his taxi finally arrived. He didn't look back as he got in.
Bosco muttered as the car sped off, "You're welcome, kid."
Finney was anxious, sitting in the back of the cab, directing a man towards his childhood home. The man could barely speak English and this was frustrating him more but somehow they got there in no time. He threw some money at the driver, not even counting it but knew he left a huge tip that the man did not deserve.
He quickly ran through the yard and into the house, immediately searching for any of his family members but the house was completely silent, an eerie silence that made his stomach hurt. He opened doors to various rooms, calling out to anyone who could hear him but there was still no response.
"Mom?" He ran up the stairs skipping every other step to get up faster. He opened the door to her room, seeing she was passed out on her bed, a bottle of Jack Daniels was on the nightstand next to the alarm clock. He picked the bottle up, sloshing what little liquid was left in the bottom of it.
"Shit." He mumbled as he sat on the edge of the bed, giving her body a slight shake to try and wake her up. "Mom!" He shook her a little harder, causing her eyes to barely come open.
"Whaa.." She said something he couldn't understand and tried to roll over to go back to sleep but he didn't allow it, keeping his hand on her face. "Brendan?" Her eyes remained slightly closed but she knew it was her son near her.
"Mom, what the hell are you doing?"
She finally opened her eyes completely, revealing how bloodshot they were, probably from crying. "Your father…" She licked her lips as she swallowed hard. "Your father is dead." She began to cry uncontrollably, as if the floodgates were opened.
His eyes became teary but he fought his off, wanting to be strong for his mother and not let her see him cry. He pulled her into a hug, feeling her warm tears soak into his shirt and hit his skin beneath. "Mom, what are you thinking? Drinking this shit is only going to make this worse."
She looked up from his shoulder; her makeup was running down her cheeks. "It made me feel better." She buried her face in his chest. "I'm sorry Brendan."
He stood up, grabbing the bottle. He gripped the neck of it hard, throwing it against the wall. Shards of glass flew everywhere, as well as the remaining whiskey. He gritted his teeth, looking at his mother who was obviously confused. "This is only going to make things worse mother!" He walked out of the room and into the hallway where he began to pace back and forth, not sure what to do next. His emotions were so messed up right now. He pressed his back against the wall, sliding down to the floor where he buried his face in his hands, this time he was unable to control the tears. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up seeing his mother sit down beside him.
"Brendan, I'm sorry." She pulled him into another tight hug. "We'll be okay."
He wiped the moisture off of his face and stood up. "Who came by to tell you?"
"One of your father's superior officers. The news hit me so hard that I can't even remember much of the conversation."
He walked into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of tissue and knelt down beside her, wiping her cheeks off. "Let's get your face cleaned up." He gently ran it over her eyes and face, cleaning it up as best as he could. "Sorry for breaking that bottle."
She kissed him on the forehead. "Thank you son. It's okay." She looked away, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying again. "This wouldn't hurt me so bad if he wouldn't have died the way he did. I just don't understand it…"
Brendan understood why. His father was one of the most hated men on the force, and now he knew truly why but he of course would shield that from his mother. "Shh mom, don't worry about that right now."
Bosco felt himself dozing off at his desk, and he couldn't help but lay his head down on the cold wood and take another break. He was so exhausted and his head pounded that he didn't care if he got caught napping or not. He heard the door behind him slam, and he quickly looked up.
"Bosco!" Swersky said through the threshold, arching his eyebrow towards him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I was.." He moved some papers around in front of him. He could not think of anything to say for an excuse. "I was resting my eyes boss."
Swersky shook his head, frowning. "You aren't doing me any good here. File what paperwork you have and go home. Get some rest while you are at it. You come in looking like this tomorrow I might have to send you to the doctor."
Bosco stretched out his arms. "I'm fine. The desk has that effect on a person." He finished up the filing and grabbed his coat, walking out onto the street where he ran into Faith yet again. He sighed and quickly turned the other way, making it obvious that he did not want to even speak one word to her.
"Hey!" She ran up to him, catching up to his pace. "What's your problem?"
He didn't stop walking, or even acknowledge her for that matter.
"Bosco, stop ignoring me. I wanted to apologize for earlier."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but continued to walk. He couldn't believe her, butting into his business. Times changed, but as much as they changed it seemed like it stayed the same. He felt her grip his arm. He turned around quickly, rolling his eyes at her.
"What Faith? I sort of want to get home."
"I just wanted to tell you that I shouldn't assume things about you. I just wanted to tell you that I was worried, and I don't want anything else to happen to you. That's all."
"Yeah, okay." He walked away into the night but part of him wanted to stay back and reach out to Faith, to tell her that he needed help. His pride wouldn't allow that though, so his feet carried him onward, to God knows where.
Finney stayed with his mother until she dosed off again on her bed, her face was buried deep into the soft pillows. He waited about 20 minutes before he decided to leave and get out of the house for awhile. Before he walked out of the front door he stared down at a picture of his family that was taken about two years ago. He picked it up and ran his fingertips over the glass, then gave a small, forced smile.
He walked out into his yard and felt the chill. He shivered a tad.
"You really should put a coat on in this weather."
He looked down the street and saw Grace walking his way.
"Grace?"
She opened the small gate on the picket fence and walked through, giving him a hug. "I thought I'd come by and see you. Is it ok?"
He nodded. "News like this travels fast eh?" He pulled away and grabbed her hand.
"Yeah, since every news channel has picked it up." They slowly made there way to the porch where they sat down on the first step. "How's your mother?"
"Not so well." He really didn't know what else to say to her. He was thrilled and happy that she actually took the time to come over and pay her respects but it was so awkward that deep down inside he wished she didn't. "Busy day at work?"
"Not too bad." She placed her hand on his thigh, getting closer to him mainly to stay warm.
"I'm thinking about going back to work pretty soon. Maybe help my mother plan the funeral and then go back." He ran his hands over some dirt that had been blown up on the porch from the wind.
"You don't wanna take more time off?"
He shrugged. "Why? What good would I be doing sitting at home, watching everyone cry. It's too painful. Besides, my dad wouldn't want me staying away that long. He'd want me to get back out on the streets and do the job." He stood up. "Let's get outta here."
She looked at her watch. "Okay, where do you want to go?"
"For a walk."
Bosco went straight home after work. He was exhausted, he didn't feel good, and he really didn't want to see anyone right now. The confides of his own home were good enough for him. He sat down on his couch, sinking really low into the cushions. Within a few moments he had already began to fall asleep. He fought it off like a little kid that was afraid to miss something, and walked to his pantry where he kept his liquor. He stared at the glass bottles in front of him, but didn't reach for any. "Not tonight." He spoke to himself as he sat back down, happy that he had a little shred of self-control left.
His eyelids grew heavy, and he just stared at a spot on his wall. The room seemed to be floating. He then heard a voice all too familiar for him.
"Hey Mo!"
Bosco rubbed his eyes, seeing a blurred figure standing in his hallway. The voice was Mikey's, but he couldn't tell if it was him or not. He sat up. "Mikey?"
The figure then began to walk towards him, now it came into focus for Bosco. "You don't look too hot Maurice."
Bosco wrinkled his lip as he scratched his head. Was he dreaming this or just now completely crazy? "I'm just imagining this." Bosco said as he buried his face in a couch pillow. When he looked up he saw Mikey, right in his face. He jumped back, letting out a sigh. "What the HELL?"
"I just wanted to come visit." Mikey said, leaning back in the recliner nearest to his TV. "I needed to send you a reality check, keep watch on you."
Bosco stared at him as if he were from Mars. "This isn't real. I do need some rest." He blinked his eyes again but Mikey still was there. "What do you mean, keep watch on me? Like a guardian angel or something?"
Mikey gave out a small laugh. "Oh yeah, I'm a genuine angel, halo, wings, the whole package. I even heard the bell ring that allowed me to get my wings!" He smirked, showing a sarcastic grin. "C'mon Mo, you think a guy like me would be able to become an angel? Get real! I just saw how troubled you were and decided to come and talk with my only brother."
"What do you want?" Bosco couldn't believe he was actually acknowledging Mikey, this figment of his imagination.
"I wasn't much help to you when I was alive, I know this. But now I see things so clearly, death can do that to a guy." Mikey shifted in the recliner. "I just wanted to tell you, keep up the road you are on and we'll be re-united sooner than you think."
Bosco shot up straight off the couch, landing on the floor, his eyes opening. He looked around the room, trying to find any site of Mikey but it was silent. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes widening from what he had just "heard." He ran his hands over his hair that was now soaked from sweating. "Just a dream."
He searched for his phone on the table and opened it up, dialing a number. He heard a voice on the other end, thankful someone answered. "Faith, we need to talk."
TBC...
Responses to reviewers:
3Wfanatic: To answer your question…LOL..No, this isn't a shipper story! I'm basically trying to show their friendship and how close they are while staying on the "friends" side. Hehe…and evening out their time on this story is HARD but I'm glad you noticed!
Arodloverus2001: thanks for continuing your interest in this story and reviewing every time. You ROCK and I appreciate you so much!
Will Stewart: I've grown to love Finney about as much as you have..he's an AWESOME character and I love writing him! You're welcome for writing a fic for him, I hope I keep you interested throughout the rest of the story!
Thirdwatcher: you are another reviewer that has been around since the beginning and I thank you a million times! Keep up the great reviews..you are great!
Crazypenguin4: Thanks for your great compliment! I appreciate your review…THANKS!
Flame31: Hope I updated soon enough for ya! Hehe! Thanks for your reply!
Quacksd: Thanks girlie for your support, whether it's on or here, your words have helped me out a lot! I hope you like this chapter just as much….(hugs you)
Kika-sama: One of the best stories you ever read eh? (blushes) Thanks so much for saying that! That makes me smile so big! I'm glad you are enjoying it…I'm so glad! Hope you remain interested!
Thanks to ALL of you again!