Obsession
Author: Stella aka Orison
Disclaimer: Nope, shakes head the characters aren't mine, but I met Jason Wiles twice so life's good right now...
Rating: PG-13 for now
Spoilers: General knowledge of the series up through season four.
Summary: As she struggles to come to terms with the consequences of the Cruz mess, Faith finds herself in the middle of a dangerous game when a man's obsession threatens her sanity and her life.
Author's note: Hey everybody, I'm back! Well, not exactly since this is not a new story. I was reading some of my old fics the other day and I realized I've never posted this one here. Some of you have probably read it on the other boards, but I thought I'd give it a try anyway. Maybe there's a few newbies who still haven't read it... :)
This is set in mid season four, but I just found out next week's episode is called "Obsession" too...
Enjoy!
The man sat in his leather chair behind the desk, a glass of bourbon in his hand, and smiled at the picture, his fingers slowly tracing its crumpled edges.
The low light coming from a nearby lamp cast an eerie glow around the room. He propped his legs up on the desk, crossing his ankles, and looked at the clock.
It was almost midnight, and the office was finally silent. No movement coming from the empty corridor, no phones ringing, no hurried voices as young secretaries ran from a room to another.
His hand curled around the glass and he took a sip of the clear liquid.
It felt good to be back in New York.
All that wandering through different cities, never settling in one place for more than a year, only to discover that all he ever wanted had been right here the whole time.
He'd gone to college like his family had expected him to, found a good job, tried to have a family of his own but had slowly found himself unable to carry on the burden of his hollow existence.
The haunting feeling of emptiness had threatened to crush him more than once, until he'd realized he needed to sever all ties with his old self and start again in the only city he'd thought he needed to stay away from.
New York.
Shifting in his seat, he put the picture back in his wallet and shed his tie, leaving his shirt open at the throat, sleeves rolled up. Elbows braced on the arms of the expensive chair, he closed his eyes as his mind travelled back to their last encounter.
He'd been young, naive enough to convince himself that leaving was the only way to escape from the pressure of his daily routine. That she'd have waited for him. They were soul mates after all.
But she hadn't.
She moved on with her life. Without him.
One stupid mistake had cost him the only woman he'd ever truly loved. But that was about to change.
He finished his drink and rose from the chair.
He'd make sure they found each other again.
And then it would be forever.
Faith Yokas sat on the bench in front of her locker, her eyes downcast toward the floor.
She should've left minutes ago, but somehow she'd just found herself unable to leave the place. Staring at her untied shoes seemed a lot more interesting right now.
The sound of a door opening startled her, and she held her breath as she realized someone was coming in. She didn't need to look up to know it was Bosco, and she mentally kicked herself for not leaving sooner.
She heard him open his own locker and rummaging inside, then as quickly as he'd come, he left. After waiting a couple more seconds to make sure he was really gone, she hesitantly raised her head.
Her chest tightened.
The metal cage was still open, revealing all her belongings inside. Four familiar faces smiled at her from the shelf, memories of a forgotten time.
She looked at the picture as a tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
Guilt, regret, anger. All the emotions she'd refused to deal with in the past few weeks were slowly coming to the surface, and she wasn't sure she was ready to handle them.
They were gone.
As if it hadn't been difficult enough to get her life back after the mess with Cruz, Fred had announced that there would be no more cops in his life, and that he was tired of sharing his wife with another man. Whatever that meant.
She brushed the tear away and cradled her head in her hands, unable to look at those faces anymore.
Bosco. It had all come down to him... as usual.
Images of the night she'd confronted him replayed themselves over and over in her head. Once again, she'd accused him out of frustration and pain, her harsh words forever burned in her memory.
"Maybe you're gonna be able to sleep at night knowing you've ruined my life but I won't! Think about this, Bosco. Think about it when you're in bed at night. I helped you, and what did I get in return? I lost the only thing that meant something to me: my kids. Hope you can still dream after this!"
Obviously he didn't know anything about the divorce, and the news had hit him like a ton of bricks. He stared at her open-mouthed, eyes glimmering as he let the words register in his brain.
Faith knew she'd said too much as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She'd never intended it to sound like this.
She'd stood there, unable to move, watching his jaw clench and his hands curl into angry fists at his sides.
He didn't need words either. The lost, hurt look in his eyes had said it all.
She remembered him turning around and slowly walking out of her life. And all because she'd said too much.
She'd been unfair and mean, but most of all, what she'd said couldn't have been farthest from the truth.
As his best friend, partner and undoubtedly the only person allowed to look inside his soul, she knew Bosco rarely dreamed at night, and was lucky enough if he could get a few hours of tormented sleep.
She'd closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his footsteps disappearing down the hallway, leaving her surrounded by a haunting silence.
That had been by far the worst night of her whole existence.
At that moment, she'd realized Bosco would've never been part of her life again.
He was gone. For good.
She wouldn't have another chance to hurt him because he'd never show up at her doorstep again, or ask for help, or even be anywhere near her in the future.
She'd finally succeeded in pushing him away.
Her mind went back to what he'd said in the locker room the day they'd agreed to split up.
"That's the way you handle people. Keep them at distance as soon as they become a problem."
The painful realization that he might've been right sent a chill down her spine.
"You've got a great set up. Things go wrong with the kids, you weren't even there. You got Fred to blame at home, you got me to blame at work."
His words mixed with the ones her mother had said years before.
"You shouldn't judge... Stop blaming other people."
"...And then there's Saint Faith. The martyr."
Everybody seemed to know her but herself.
Faith reluctantly rose to her feet and closed her locker, then grabbed her backpack purse and headed outside, hoping the cool night air would help clear her head up and soothe her aching heart.
Maurice Boscorelli looked at his partner's retreating form as she walked out of the precinct and into the night.
Letting her go had been the toughest decision of his life, and had sure affected the man he was today to the point he barely recognized himself anymore, but she'd made the decision, and he'd vowed never to interfere with her life again.
His mind couldn't still get over the fact that he'd been responsible for tearing apart her family, and seeing her pained expression and haunted eyes day after day was enough to plague him with nightmares every night.
He'd promised he wouldn't ask for her help anymore, told her he'd even transfer if that was what she wanted, but nothing could've prepared him for her outburst that night.
All he wanted to do was tell her he'd been assigned a new partner, and that he was going to make sure she'd never have to go and rescue him from another mess, but she'd immediately confronted him with the news of Fred's decision to leave her and he'd been shocked into silence, unable to utter a word of comfort, a plea of forgiveness, or even a sound.
And now here he was, a shell of his former self, shivering in the crisp night air as he leaned against the side of his car.
Another night was about to begin. A long, sleepless night in his dark, empty apartment.
Bosco wasn't looking forward to it. Not in the slightest.
Maybe a couple of beers would help.
He sighed and got into the driver's seat.
Probably not, but he was going to drink anyway.
Faith pulled the keys out of her pocket as she stood in front of her apartment door, eyes still brimming with tears.
She was about to slid the right one into the lock when something caught her eye.
A single red rose was lying on her doormat.
She knelt down and picked it up, immediately wondering who'd leave flowers at her doorstep, especially now that her life seemed to be spinning out of control.
She looked around but couldn't see anyone.
Weird, she thought to herself as she shook her head and stepped inside.
TBC...