Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Game of Revenge ❯ Chapter 15

It was October. The air was just beginning to chill, and Edward Bosley was kissing Jack Harper goodbye before heading out on his first mission.

“Bye, Eddie. Good luck.”

The blond smiled brightly. “I'll be fine, Jack, don't worry!” He turned and walked down the thread-bare hall, down the stairs, and out of sight.

It was a routine thing, and Allison had already briefed him on it. A criminal who was wanted in a recent string of bank robberies had been sighted in a warehouse near the old railway station unarmed and unsuspecting. Edward was to go out, catch the man, and bring him in. Simple, straightforward. He was only bringing his gun because that was policy. Policy. That made him chuckle softly to himself. He and Jack were already rampant policy-breakers, what was one more? But Jack had talked him into it, and as Edward stepped out of the cab three blocks from the station, he was grateful for it. It was chilly and dark, and the sounds of the city, although distant, made Edward uneasy. He checked the safety as he approached the door to warehouse six, where Tompson - that was the criminal's name, Kyle Tompson - had been spotted. He pushed against the door, gun drawn, and it swung open silently. Edward took a deep, calming breath. It was routine, everything would be fine. Just get in, get the guy in cuffs, and get out. Simple.

He stepped into the darkness of the warehouse, where the only light came from that of the few streetlamps outside that managed to hit in their meager beams a high-placed window of the long, empty building that stood beside them. These dim shafts of light illuminated an area of a few feet around them, and then hid the rest in shadow. Edward heard something move on his left and turned, aiming into the blackness. There was nothing there, (just a rat, that's all) and he continued on, his hands steady, his senses on edge but clear. Then he saw him, the small figure of the young man he had been sent to capture. Edward moved forward.

Click

He paused. “I'm not here to hurt you, Kyle. I just want you to come with me. Nice and calm, easy does it. I won't hurt you, just come here.”

Edward could see the trembling boy, no more than 19, backed into the wall, his arms and hands shaking violently, blue eyes wide with terror, panic, a glint of metal.

Edward froze.

Bang

He felt it before he heard it, the cold metal piercing his chest, the heat of blood that spilled forth, seeping through the fingers of the hand he put up to feel the wound, to see if this was really happening (It can't be real, no…) Everything was going so slowly, time stalling out, the wall moving upwards as his legs gave out beneath him. The boy, Kyle, stepping forward,

“No! Oh no! Oh god, no!”

Images flashing before his eyes, the beams of light coming in from outside, Jack's face, smiling, happy, (Jack… help me… I don't want to die, Jack, don't leave me!) His childhood home, his dog, the black boots of the Boston police force as they rushed towards him,

“It's Bosley! Something went wrong! Call Headquarters! Someone get a doctor! Hurry!”

“There's so much blood…”

“How long has he been here?”

And then Jack, clear through the fog in Edward's vision. Jack telling him it wasn't his fault, gently brushing his hair off his face, holding his hand in a grip so hard it was painful. It hurt everywhere, and at the same time he felt a numbness creep up in the corners of his mind, dimming his senses. But Jack remained clear, Jack was there. (don't leave me stay here don't let me fall please don't go) Still he was slipping, he clenched onto Jack's hand, digging his nails into the soft palm. He could see the tears running down his lover's face. (don't cry, I'll always be here, I won't leave you) It was getting colder; the mist was closing in on him. He held Jack's gaze, (I won't leave, I promise)

“…You are the best partner I could ever wish to have!” Jack's voice came clearly through the fog.

“Thank you, Jack.” (Jack) “…I…” (I love you, partner…)

His mind became heavy, everything was becoming brighter, the pain was leaving, he felt himself fade out of himself, and then there was nothing.

That night haunted Kyle's nightmares even in the safety of the bakery's back room that he rented from Alex's father. He had taken the pistol off a street patrolman as he was looking the other way. It had been necessary, the street gangs were building in number and he was afraid of the men who ruled them, who killed without blinking, who didn't care if you could protect yourself or not. He needed the gun to survive; this was the ruling factor of his life. He needed money and food, so he stole, he robbed. He had to, there was no other way, and he hated it. Despised it with all his heart. He never wanted to kill anyone, and when the policeman had found him, it had been in blind fear that he had pulled the trigger. He had thought the officer was a gang member come to murder him for not paying up, to get rid of him and take his shelter. He had not seen the truth until it was too late. Even now, he could see the blood on his hands as he had tried to staunch the flow, and he could hear the shouts of the other policemen as they responded to the report of gunshots and feel the guilt that had weighed him down as he fled.