A/N: I really hope you guys like this one. I'm not too sure how I feel about it. Let me know, please.

Bosco opened his eyes slowly as he heard the woman get to her feet and walk away, with strict instructions for the young boy to watch him. Although he knew he was in poor shape, he wasn't as bad as he let the woman think. He always was pretty good at poker. He sat up a little straighter, as good as he could get with his weakening body. Mike stared into his lap, obviously not wanting to look at the injured cop sitting on the floor in the pool of his own blood.

"You don't want to do this,"he said softly, blue eyes softening as he watched the boy carefully. "I can see it in your face. You're not a murderer."

The boy said nothing, but his whole body tensed, and Bosco knew he had hit it on the mark.

"Look, in all honesty, it's not looking good for your girlfriend. Attempted murder of a police officer, murder of civilians, hostage taking...The list goes on." He was quiet for a moment, took a few deep breaths to regain his momentary strength. "But if you help me now, I'll make sure you get off as lightly as you can."

The boy was already shaking his head. "No, I love her. I told her I'd do this."

"No, kid, someone who really loves you wouldn't ask you to do something against your will. This isn't love. This is her taking advantage of you." Mike hung his head lower, if at all possible, and for the first time, Bosco noticed the fading bruises on the kids forearm. He frowned.

"How'd you get those bruises on your arm, Mike?"he asked, softly.

The kid seemed to have suddenly grown a backbone. He sat up straighter, and his brown eyes narrowed. "Shut up. You don't know anything."

Bosco shook his head slowly. He could recognize an abused kid from a mile away. He could see the same things in them that he saw in himself some days. "I know more than you think. Is it your dad? Does your dad hit you, Mike?"

"Shut up!"the boy whispered, picking up the gun and pointing it at Bosco. "Stop talking!"

"I understand, kiddo,"Bosco continued. "I know exactly how you feel. You don't belong at home, you don't belong at school, so you find someone you feel you belong with, and you'll do anything for them. Isn't that right?"

Mike didn't respond, but his hold on the gun loosened, and his arm dropped several inches. Bosco frowned, wondering how far he could take it without snapping the kid. He tried to remember back to the days when he had lived in his father's house, the fear that consumed him everyday, his quick to react temper that had carried over into adulthood.

"Mike, you don't have to do this. Give me the gun, and we'll take care of it together, alright? I know where you're coming from. My dad was an abusive bastard too. I understand everything. Your desperate need for approval, for love. The fear you live with everyday of your life. But it can get better, kid. Do you understand? We can help you."

He stopped talking as a wave of dizziness washed over. 'Oh, shit, pushed it too hard,'he thought to himself as his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He allowed them to close, and tried to relax back into the bookshelf. He had tried to get through to the kid, but there wasn't a whole lot else he could do. It was up to Mike now.

Carlos Nieto swallowed nervously as he pushed the gurnery through the open glass door and into the school. He had accepted immediately when the Lieutenant had asked them to go in the building to help a woman shot in the leg. He was eager to help anyone he could. But when Lieu had given them bulletproof vests to wear under their uniforms, his eagerness had turned to downright fear. The thought that he might be shot never occurred to him. He looked behind him to make sure Doc was indeed following with the bright orange bags filled with supplies. Now that he was inside the school, with no sounds except their footfalls on the floor and the offending squeak of a gurney wheel, Carlos decided he would rather be anywhere else.

"You alright?"Doc asked quietly from behind him. Carlos hesitated, then nodded.

"Yeah. You think we should try to check on Boscorelli? Faith said he sounded really weak."

Doc agreed whole heartedly with Carlos' idea. He didn't know the tough NYPD cop very well, but he had heard enough stories about him to know he didn't weaken too easily. Doc had been planning on asking about Bosco once they got in the library.

They approached the double doors to the source of the trouble, and knocked quietly. The door swung open immediately, and they were suddenly looking down the barrels of two identical guns, one in each hand of a shapely, dark haired woman in a business suit.

"'Bout time you got here,"she muttered, opening the door wide enough for them to push the cart through. "I assume you two won't try anything funny. I've got two guns, and your friend sitting back there as my hostage. Just do your job, and get out."

Doc crouched down beside the still body of a young boy, and sighed heavily when he encountered no pusle. He looked up at the woman, wondering how someone could be capable of doing something so rash and unforgivable. He joined Carlos' beside the body of the woman the shooter indicated. She was an older woman, middle aged, with short gray hair. She was shaking slightly from blood loss and shock, no doubt a result from the hole in her thigh, and the blood pouring from the wound. Doc and Carlos quickly set to work.

"Ma'am, my name is Doc, and this is my partner, Carlos. We're going to help you, okay?"

Remarkably, the woman was still conscious and lucid enough to understand them. She nodded weakly, then said, "I knew my angel would come through."

Doc glanced up at her face as he carefully applied a pressure bandage to the gun shot wound. "Who's your angel, ma'am?"he asked more to keep her awake and talking than out of actual curiousity. She smiled faintly, then said, "I think his name was NYPD. He said he was going to help me."

Doc frowned slightly, exchanging a glance with Carlos over the woman's body. Bosco. The officer had helped this woman, possibly saving her life by wrapping her scarf around her wound to stop the bleeding. Now he lay somewhere in this library, most likely injured and in much pain. Doc glanced up at the gun wielding woman, who was glancing around the library nervously.

"Bosco?"Doc called out, praying for confirmation that the younger man was alive and reasonably well. The woman swung towards him, pointing her gun in his face.

"You shut up and do your job. You don't have to be concerned with him."

"I'm okay, Doc,"a hesitant voice answered back. "Just get the woman out."

Doc nodded to himself more than anyone else, and as Carlos finished tending to the woman, the older man looked towards the guns. "Ma'am, if he's injured, I need to help him. It won't hurt your cause any to let me make sure he's okay."

"Doc, no!"Carlos hissed. He also wanted to make sure Bosco was safe, but not at the risk of his own life. A dead paramedic is no help to anyone. The woman tapped her gun lightly against her thigh, frowning in what appeared to be concentration.

"Two hostages are better than one,"she admitted slowly. She turned to Doc and smiled brilliantly. "I accept. Only you, and a couple of bags of supplies. You try anything that isn't medical, I won't feel bad shooting you."

Doc nodded stiffly. He helped Carlos lift the woman onto a backboard, then onto the gurney. He took the younger man's shoulders in his hands, and was surprised to see tears filling his eyes.

"Carlos, you have to get this woman help. Alright? I'll be fine."

Carlos blinked rapidly, then smiled meekly. "Take care of yourself, Doc."

Then with a set of guns trained on him, he pushed the gurney out the door and down the hall. Doc swallowed hard, and turned to look at the dark haired woman. "This way,"she said, motioning him over with a gun. He followed her to the other side of the library, behind a set of bookshelves. He immediately noticed a young boy sitting at a desk with a gun resting in his lap. He had a bewildered look on his face, and Doc could see splatters of blood on his face and in his hair.

"He's right there,"the woman said, shoving Doc to the right. A sharp intake of breath signaled the fact that he had seen Bosco. His pale face, dark bags under his eyes, didn't bode too well for his physical state. The officer leaned limply against a shelf of books, apparently dozing, his head lolled to the right as if he didn't have the strength to hold it up. He hands rested loosely in his lap, and Doc noticed with despairing thoughts the amount of blood pooling around the young man. He kneeled beside him, and started rooting through his bags.

"Bosco, my boy, why is it always you?"he said softly, as he produced a vile of morphine from one the many pockets. Bosco's eyes flew open, and he studied the paramedic with startlingly blue eyes clouded with pain.

"Doc,"he whispered softly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm gonna help you out." He administered the shot with care, and saw it take effect an instant later. The lines around Bosco's eyes and mouth slackened, and he smiled.

"Thanks. I guess I should get a frequent customer card, huh?"

Doc chuckled softly as he helped the officer lay down on the floor. He cut Bosco's shirt down the middle, and tore it off the young man's upper bodies. Discarding it to the side, he noticed the hole in his vest and frowned. So this woman had done her homework. Cop killers. Although he had never seen any damage done by them on any of his calls, he knew their destructive power. He knew what this meant. Not only was Bosco in horrible danger, but so was Doc himself. He opened the vest's velcro and managed to get if off with only a sharp intake of breath from his patient.

"Bos, I gotta turn you over, make sure there's an exit wound." Bosco nodded weakly, and thanks to the morphine, made only a small moan as Doc rolled him onto his side.

"What's the verdict?"Bosco asked, as he was eased onto his back.

Doc smiled at him. "Haven't you heard? I'm the Bosco of paramedics. I don't lose patients. You'll be fine."

Bosco said nothing. He was assaulted by a sudden feeling, one that stole the breath from his lungs and turned his face even more ashen. He knew with a certainty he had never felt before that one way or another, this was going to end very soon. He wasn't sure if it was relief he felt deep in his gut, or simply another stage of his injury he hadn't reached yet. He swallowed hard as Doc fastened a pressure bandage around his shoulder. Bosco wondered desperately what Faith was doing at that moment.