A/N: I tried my hardest to get this updated before Christmas, so here is chapter two!

Special Thanks: To Cosmic Castaway for reading it with me and letting me know if it sounded ok. Also to my reviewers: jayne-190, firefly120, and crux. Thanks for your wonderful feedback, it is great to know that you guys are reading this!

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Still don't own them!

Fall To Pieces

Chapter Two

Finney felt his eyelids slowly flutter open despite the fact that he did not want to be awake yet. The apartment was dark which confused him since it was about 12:30 in the afternoon. Glancing towards the window across from the couch he saw nothing but rain patter against the glass as well as gray clouds that were cascaded throughout the sky. He was on the couch. He had totally forgotten that he allowed himself to pass out in the living room but the bottle on the coffee table quickly jogged his memory.

His head pounded as he turned over, facing the black cushions on the back of the couch. He wasn't in the most comfortable position but at the moment it would have to do, his body did not want him to move unless he wanted to hurl right where he was. Closing his eyes again, he allowed himself to doze off but fought it. He had to get moving if he wanted to feel somewhat decent for his shift.

It took him almost 5 minutes just to gain the strength to sit up, fighting any chance of vomiting until he could make it to the trash can or toilet, the last thing he wanted to do was clean it up out of his carpet. He ran his hands through his soiled hair, slowly but surely making his way towards his bathroom that was only a few feet away, but seemed like miles. His body screamed out to him to lay back down but he ignored it, barely making it to the porcelain in time as he propped himself over, allowing whatever remnants that were left in his stomach to come up and leave his system.

His eyes watered but he quickly got up, his nausea gone but the drastic headache was still everso present, something he'd have to drink a lot of caffeine with to get rid of.

He fought the urge to sit down in the shower as water trickled over his clammy skin. He closed his eyes but opened them quickly, trying to get rid of the images of his father that passed before him. It seemed the only cure to get rid of flashbacks was drowning himself in alcohol. He could feel another long day at work coming on and was so close to calling in sick, but decided to fight through it and go in. If he stayed home he'd be alone with his thoughts yet again and that was something he didn't want at the moment.

Bosco hurried in to the station, glancing at his watch as he did. It was 2:45, he had actually made it with time to spare, something he hadn't done in quite awhile. He wasn't even sure why he was early, there was no part of him that was excited to be here unless by some miracle he got to switch partners and work with someone he liked a little bit more. It wasn't that he hated Finney, it was the fact that the kid had been acting so strangely that he wasn't sure what to expect or be sure that he would do the job right. The last thing he wanted to do was baby-sit.

He took in a deep sigh as he went to his locker, taking his time as he changed only to see Finney come in a few minutes after he did looking even worse than he did yesterday. He wasn't going to say a word to him and start off on the wrong foot so he minded his business, not even glancing at him the entire time.

Finney on the other hand couldn't help but look in Bosco's direction. He didn't want anyone to know he was hungover but he was in the company of cops, people that were good at the smallest of observation so he was pretty much out of luck. He threw his duffel bag on the bench beside him, trying to catch his breath from the jog he took up the stairs.

"You out of shape there Junior?" Davis asked, tapping his shoulder as he walked by. "You sound like you just got done running a marathon or something."

Finney frowned as he buttoned up his uniform. For some reason the nickname 'Junior' was really starting to piss him off. Probably because they were comparing him to his father and that seemed to be a touchy subject for him since even before his death. He had mixed emotions about it, he loved the man and always looked up to him as a hero, but he was also very livid with him for taking his own life and the reasons behind why he died by his own hand.

"Stop calling me Junior, that's getting old." He pushed Davis' hand away.

"You coming in looking like a bum out on the corner is getting old too. Grow up."

With that comment Finney was left alone in the locker room, staring down at the floor. It wasn't his imagination; other people now were definitely taking notice to his lifestyle he had been living.

"Did you do it dad?"

"I'll tell you this, I'll never do a day in jail."

"I just want a simple yes or no."

A sudden feeling of anger rose up in him while he thought about how his father could never look him in the eye and tell him the truth. He had so much respect for his father but CT never returned the favor for him. He slammed his fists hard into the cold metal of the blue locker causing the hangers and contents inside to clank and rattle. Standing up, he shut the door and made his way to the roll call room putting his anger on the back burner and allowing it to gain more momentum from being bottled up inside.

"What are you in the mood to eat?" Glancing at his watch, Bosco couldn't help but notice his stomach growling. "We better take lunch now before we don't get a chance to."

Finney shrugged, keeping his gaze out to the side. He wasn't hungry, in fact he was still sort of nauseous from the irresponsible drinking that took place the night before.

Bosco had enough, pulling the car to the curb and slamming the gearshift in to park. No more of these one sided conversations, no more of the side-glances and awkward pauses coming from the passenger side. He stared at Finney for a moment and then back out the front of the window, trying to calm himself down.

"Look Finney, you don't like me. I don't like you, but we have got to sit in this car for 8 hours everyday with each other which means we've gotta have some form of communication. I'm not asking for you to be my friend I'm just asking for certainty that you are going to have my back out there instead of being in this daze that you've been in."

"All of this because I don't know what I want to eat?" Finney knew exactly what Bosco was referencing to but he felt like being snide at the moment.

Putting an index finger up, Bosco gritted his teeth. "You know exactly what the hell I'm talking about." He was done wasting time so he got out of the car and grabbed a hot dog from the corner vendor. If Finney wasn't going to let him know what he wanted to eat then he wasn't going to worry about it and take care of himself.

Finney remained in the car; his expressionless face was now cast downward. To anyone looking in on his situation they'd think he was being childish and feeling sorry for himself, but they weren't inside his mind where everything was jumbled up and incomplete. He couldn't even find his way out of the mess, and honestly wasn't realizing that something was definitely wrong with him.

From Bosco's point of view Finney was just being an immature rookie, or spoiled brat for that matter. He never liked CT Finney so the fact that Brendan was his son left a bitter taste in his mouth. At the moment it wasn't even registering to Bosco that Finney could possibly be going through some hard times that were caused from his own father. He was so aggravated by his actions that any other judgements of his partner were blinded by the anger he was feeling.

Finney finally stepped out of the car and bought a bottle of water, drinking it down quickly but still remained quiet. Bosco was leaning on the hood, staring down the street. The only thing he could think to do was say something and try to allow this situation to pass by.

"Sorry about being quiet. I've just been really tired lately." He threw the bottle in the trashcan, swallowing hard as he continued to fight for the words to come out of his mouth. "Honestly I don't know how to take you so I've kept my mouth shut."

Bosco didn't look in his direction, just nodded. "The way you are handling things isn't safe. This job requires communication."

"I know." He almost whispered it, stepping back into the RMP as he did.

"5-5 David, respond to 123rd and 6th avenue, domestic dispute."

The drive to the scene didn't take long since they were only about four blocks out, but the whole time all Finney could think about was other things rather than focusing on the job.

With the loud screech of the tire the RMP pulled up, revealing a man on the sidewalk, lying in his own pool of blood. His body was motionless as more onlookers came on to the scene. Bosco scanned the area as they approached, taking note to the woman that was obviously involved, trying to sneak past the crowd and away from everything.

"Finney, stay with the victim. Call a bus!" He slowly walked in the direction of the lady since she was not paying attention to him.

Finney knelt down, looking at the man that was pretty much on death's doorstep. "We need an ambulance at this location, forthwith." He looked up, seeing that Bosco had the woman in custody.

"Do something…." The man muttered as he choked.

"We have an ambulance on the way."

The man began to choke a little more as blood was coughed up and on to his lips. "You NYPD…are worthless. Just let me die…on the cold street." He took in another deep breath and then it stopped.

"Stay with me, the ambulance is right here." Looking up he saw Carlos and Levine walking up to them with a backboard as well as their equipment bags.

Finney stood up, staring down at the motionless body below him. 'Worthless.' He suddenly felt guilt rise up over him despite the fact that he couldn't do anything for the man. Could they have gotten here faster? Could he have applied pressure to his wounds? Doubt caused an instant pain in his stomach as he slowly walked back to Bosco.

"Is he dead?" The lady asked as Bosco slapped some handcuffs on her wrists. "Is the bastard dead?"

"Let's just say you'll be spending the rest of your life on death row."

When Finney got back to the station house and changed he noticed 2 missed calls on his cell phone, both from Grace. That was weird, he didn't even hear the phone ring and he had it with him the entire shift. He didn't say a word to anyone as he exited, making his way out to the street where the cold air hit him like a wall. He dialed her number even though he really didn't feel like being sociable with anyone.

After a few rings her voice finally came over the line. "Hello?"

"Hey Grace. Did you call?" He wasn't sure why he asked that when it was obvious she did.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up and do something. Maybe grab a beer?"

Finney paused as he looked down the street, making sure it was okay to cross. It didn't sound that intriguing to him but he didn't want to piss off more people than he already did.

"Where you at right now?"

"At my apartment. You wanna come here or meet somewhere?"

The thought of crowds right now made him want to punch something. "I'll just come over, I'm not in the mood for a bar right now."

He made it to her apartment about 10 minutes after they hung up. She opened the door, revealing a low cut shirt and a pair of tight jeans. 'Great, she's got something on her mind that I don't right now,' He thought as he entered. He went straight for the couch, sitting down.

"Something the matter?" She asked, sitting down beside him.

He shook his head no, staring at the blank TV in front of them. He really didn't want to be here at the moment for the fear of taking all of his problems out on her, and she definitely didn't deserve that.

He felt her hand on his thigh, moving upward as her lips brushed his neck, but he quickly pulled away almost glaring at her as he did.

"What are you doing Grace?"

She sat back, a surprised look overtaking her features. This was not like Finney, usually after a long shift at work he liked to settle down with her. Even his facial expression was out of character.

"I was trying to help you relax a little bit."

"I am relaxed, I'm just not in the mood for this. I had a hard day."

She nodded, running her fingers through her hair. She felt as if she was walking on eggshells with him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

For some reason her last comment lit a fire under him, causing him to stand up. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid but he couldn't hold himself back now.

"No, I don't want to talk! Why does everyone want me to talk? A guy died right in front of me and blamed me, so excuse me for not being in the mood to have sex right now!"

He turned towards the door, slamming it as he made his exit, leaving Grace alone and wondering what was going on with him. Finney knew exactly what he wanted, and that was the rest of the bottle of Jim Beam he had left on his coffee table, it had his name written all over it….

TBC….all feedback is greatly appreciated!