Forgiveness 12/12

Author: Cactus

Disclaimers: I don't own them I just wish I did.

Spoilers: Cruz does not exist in this universe. Takes place after the start of season 4.

Summary: Bosco blames himself for Mikey's death. Can Faith help him?

That's right folks – this is the final chapter.

I was completely overwhelmed by all your feedback and I hope the conclusion is to your liking.

By all means, feel free to let me know what you think.

Mikey is calling out to me. His voice is panicked and shrill and it scares me even more. The pressure on my chest increase until it becomes unbearable. My lungs and throat are ablaze, the fiery agony making it impossible for me to focus on anything but the pain.

I throw my head back to prevent myself from swallowing even more water. I have little control over my movements because my limbs are paralyzed from bone numbing exhaustion.

But Mikey keeps calling me. I force myself to focus on his words. He leans down so close to me that I can almost feel his breath. But, I don't dare touch him.

"Mo, I'm not suppose to help you, but I can't let this go on." He looks around nervously.

In my mind, I think he's going to take hold of me. My body jerks involuntarily at the thought of the fire running through me once again.

I groan and gasp, but can't speak to tell him no.

"Mo, listen to me," he shrieks out. I stop trying to get away.

"I don't care if I'm doomed by helping you. Listen to me Mo. When I was in your place, I couldn't see that there was a boat close by. You were in that boat trying to save me, but I couldn't see it." He looks around again before continuing. "Mo, there's another boat here for you."

I turn my head desperately but am unable to see anyone else.

"Mo, don't push them away like I did. You'll only end up here, and they'll end up in your place." He looks around expectantly as if waiting for something to happen.

"Mo, I don't have much time. They're coming for me. Please, I don't care about saving myself. You need to let me go. Just let me go and save yourself." He pleads with me.

He leans over until he can't get any closer to me. He whispers knowingly, "Let me go and you'll see the other boat."

These words drive the pain straight into my heart like a thousand knives. I don't want to let him go, he's my brother, my baby brother. I try to call him. All I can manage is a strangled first syllable. He turns to look at me as his boats starts to drift away. I watch it bobbing lazily on the water as it gets smaller and smaller.

I feel the tear in my soul as he is ripped away from me. It is so real that I look for pieces of my flesh in the water. I keep my eyes on him but he doesn't make any effort to come back. I manage one last wordless scream to call him but to no avail. I watch him helplessly as he waves goodbye until I lose sight of the boat.

I have no strength, or hope left and my body starts to tremble and shake from the fatigue and shock and all I can do is sob.

I'll admit I'm scared now. I never thought that Bosco could die, not like this anyway. If he does, I don't know how Faith will handle it. She's spent both emotionally and physically. I'm scared for her and I watch her as she sleeps with her head resting on his bed. She refuses to leave his side and she tried to stay awake, but she's too exhausted.

It doesn't make sense. He's young and strong and yet…he can't seem to fight the fever and the pneumonia eating away at his lungs. They put him on the ventilator about 2 hours ago. He was struggling to breathe on his own and the gasping and gulping sounds he made with each breath were painful to listen to.

The doctors can't figure out why he's got so much water in his lungs. It seems like an endless supply. They upped his meds and reduced the saline solution. I don't think they expect him to wake up any time soon but the taped his eyes shut in case.

I look down at him and although the ventilator does all the work for him I can't help but notice how he is still struggling. Every so often I watch as his arms jerk and his chest makes a heaving motion. The nurse says this is involuntary but I'm not so sure.

I wonder what he sees and feels at this moment. I remember my own experience after my heart attack. I never told anyone what it was like, not even Faith. It was frightening and painful and although I was eventually saved, I don't want her to be scared.

I turn to look at her. Her head is resting on her arms, her breathing even and soft.

I want to protect her from all the pain in the world but I know that's impossible. I brush her hair away from her face as she sleeps peacefully. I love her even more now than before and I kiss her gently before I leave the room.

White.

White-hot searing light pierces through the haze in my mind. It jolts me back to reality.

I am seized by terror when I feel the water surround me. I begin to tremble and shake involuntarily. 'I am dead', is the only thought running through my brain.

I can't see but I can hear sounds all around me. Voices call to me but the words are all jumbled. I can't make sense of anything anymore.

I hear my groans but I can't speak. I realize I am under water.

I look up and I see the bottom of a boat above me. I hear Faith, hear her screams blaring above the roar in my ears.

My lungs are unable stave off the need for more oxygen and I can't hold my breath any longer. I start to gulp. The water rushes into my mouth and I feel it rushing down and invading my stomach.

The pain only intensifies my need for air and I take an involuntary breath as I fight to reach the surface. It causes me to choke, which only increases the agony. Each cough brings more water into my mouth, nose and lungs.

I feel myself fading as my vision blurs. I'm unable to coordinate any movements and I start to lose the feeling in my hands and arms.

The deafening sound in my ears is broken vaguely by the resonance of her voice. She's calling me. I realize now she's always been calling me.

I can barely make her out above me but she must be leaning out over the boat because I see fingers just below the surface. Her voice is panicked and shrill, as she urges me to grab her hand.

My lungs try to eject the water from my body but my efforts only cause me to suck in a lungful of salty, bitter water. I have no strength left and all I can do is let my arm float up towards Faith.

I graze her fingers but can't make any movement to grasp them. I swallow water faster and faster until I feel like I'm going to explode. My body is at its breaking point and I watch Faith as her mouth forms the words that I can no longer hear.

White. That's the colour of my pain. White-hot agony.

My eyes shoot open when I feel the touch of his hand on mine. I must have fallen asleep and I'm not sure if I'm dreaming. He's trying to grab a hold of me.

My head darts up from the bed immediately and I freeze when I hear him struggling to breathe. I remember that he's on the ventilator and this shouldn't be happening. I quickly reach for the light above his bed and turn it on.

Something is wrong. He's struggling violently to take in oxygen. His groans are desperate and terrifying as his body jerks weakly. I grab his outstretched hand and I hear myself calling to him frantically.

He is fighting to open his eyes and I rip the tape off that was meant to keep them shut.

The monitors are shrieking with the urgency of the situation and his nurse rushes into the room.

She takes in the scene before her and moves to handle it.

"Mr. Boscorelli, you're fighting the machine. You have to relax and let it do the work."

His eyes are wide with terror and he chokes and gags against the machine. Water starts to trickle out from his nose and the side of his mouth. His movements are panicked and frantic. And he tries to reach up towards his mouth.

The grunting sounds he emits are alarming and I call to him again.

"Bosco- Bosco." His eyes are wild with fear.

"Nurse, you have to remove the tube. He's choking on it. He can't breathe." I hear my terrified voice barking out these orders.

"Mrs. Yokas, he needs to relax. I can't remove the tube. It's helping him breathe."

"He's choking – can't you see." I yell at the top of my lungs. "Get it out of him or help me God, I'll do it myself." I move towards the head of the bed and I'm ready to yank the whole thing out if she refuses to do it.

Above the din of the alarms and bells, Bosco lets out a muted scream forcing water out through his mouth and nose in small rivulets. His hand reaches out, searching for something to grab on to and instinctively I take it.

The nurse springs into action at the sound and sight of his distress. She doesn't bother with niceties or explanations. She unhooks the machine, grabs the tubing and yanks it out with a backward jerk of her arm.

Immediately the water comes pouring out of Bosco like a river. The nurse turns him quickly, his upper body hanging limply off the bed.

"Hold him." She commands me and I move to take over her position. I place one hand beneath his forehead to keep it steady and I wrap my arm around his torso from behind to keep from rolling off the bed. He heaves and dumps a stomach full of water all over the floor. His body suddenly seems boneless, and I'm not sure if he's still conscious.

He heaves again, and with a low guttural sound empties his stomach.

The nurse runs out of the room to get some help.

I feel his body contracting fiercely under my touch. I lean over and look at his face. His eyes are fluttering and liquid is pouring out of his nose and mouth. A small puddle has accumulated on the floor.

He makes no effort to breathe on his own. I push his head back and he moans and throws up again. It's inconceivable to me that there could be so much liquid inside of him.

I call to him and shake his body hanging limply in my arms.

"Nurse – nurse – help me," I yell out. I look out into the corridor and hear running feet and voices approaching rapidly. I feel Bosco's body trembling and shaking and feel more water splashing down violently onto my feet and the floor.

A doctor runs into the room followed closely by the nurse. "Help him," I plead hysterically.

He looks at the water on the floor and sees Bosco's body jerk, as more water is discharged from his lungs. I see the confusion in his eyes but it only takes him a second to jump into action. He takes Bosco from me and pushes him back onto the bed. The nurse pulls the pillow from behind his head and throws it to the floor.

Bosco lies motionless except for the quivering of his muscles. I can see his abdomen rippling as his stomach contracts intensely and more water comes shooting out of his mouth.

The doctor turns his head to the side and barks out orders to the nurse. I can't hear anything they are saying, the scene before me too shocking and terrifying in all its implications.

The doctor straddles Bosco's lifeless body and starts to push down forcefully on his abdomen. Each thrust causes more water to come spurting out.

I can feel my hand going up to my mouth as I choke back my fear and I back up until I run into the wall behind me. I can only watch in horror as the scene unfolds before me.

I bound up the stairs to Bosco's apartment two by two. I push past the door that I left slightly ajar a few minutes ago.

I look to the couch but he's not where I left him. Damn, he barely made it up the stairs and I don't want him back at the hospital already.

He was discharged two days ago and he stayed with his mom until now. His mom finally called my house when she couldn't reach him and she came back immediately after I told her what happened.

I look quickly in the kitchen but there's no sign of him. I turn in the opposite direction and see the bathroom door open and the light off. I guess he's not there either.

Maybe, he needed to lie down. I walk down the corridor towards the bedroom and hear the clicking and beeping of his answering machine. I hesitate before entering.

I feel like an intruder as I watch him finger the machine and play one of the recordings. He doesn't notice that I'm in the doorway and I watch him from behind as he wraps his arms around his chest.

The tape clicks on.

"Mo, it's me, Mikey. Mo, I need to talk to you. Pick up if you're home." Loud music and laughter are heard in the background. " Mo, I got great news. I'm going to California." Mikey laughs crazily as the phone drops to the floor." Sorry about that, bro. Yeah, some friends and I are gonna go down just like we had always planned." A chorus of people start singing the Beach Boys, California Girls. " Mo, you gotta come too. I won't go without you, bro." Another voice rises above the rest. "Baby, we are flying sky high. No need to drive to California." Mikey explains," No, we gotta drive down. That's how we planned it with my brother." He turns back to the receiver." Mo, just think, we could be surfing and swimming in the Pacific Ocean, just like we always planned. Call me when you get in." A jumble of music and laughter is heard until the line is cut off.

The finality of the click reverberates in the room. He does not move at all. Just stands, head hanging, frozen to the spot, lost in his thoughts.

I approach him slowly and call out his name to let him know I'm right behind him. He doesn't turn or answer.

"Bos," I whisper softly again.

I tentatively place my hand on his shoulder. He remains motionless for a few seconds and then places his own hand over mine. I pull him towards me and his unresisting body turns and lets itself be enveloped in my arms. He buries his head in my shoulder and I rub the back of his neck.

"Thank you." He says in a strangled voice still hoarse and scratchy from his ordeal.

"For what Bos?"

He takes two gulping breaths, his chest contracting somewhat. This no longer scares me. The doctor said it isn't anything physical but most probably a psychological reaction that will eventually fade. I think he's afraid he'll run out of air and his body is reacting instinctively to that fear.

"Thank you for always being there and for saving me." I pull him in closer and hold him tighter.

"I'll always be here for you, Bos. Always."

The End