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xtremeroswelliaTitle: Wherever You Will Go series, fic #23: What the Mirror Reflects (1/2)
Authors: Demelza and X_tremeroswellian
Email(s): demelza81@yahoo.co.nz and X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to us. They belong to Edward Allen Bernero and John Wells and a bunch of other people that we've never met before. Please don't sue.
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual content
Summary: Faith struggles to make the right decision for her family while Bosco and his mother discuss the events of the previous night. Meanwhile, Mikey Boscorelli is shocked when an unexpected visitor turns up on his doorstep.
Spoilers: Up through and including "The Unforgiven."
What the Mirror Reflects (Part One)
Mikey Boscorelli heard a distant knocking sound and he lifted his head from where he'd fallen asleep on his old sofa and squinted at the digital clock on top of his old black and white television. It read 9:24 a.m. He groaned and laid his head back down. The knock came again, the the rhythm quicker, like the person on the other side was in a hurry.
He reluctantly sat up, then pulled on a t-shirt he'd left on the coffee table the night before. He moved slowly toward the door, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He unlocked it and pulled it open without looking to see who it was first. His eyes widened as he found himself face-to-face with Faith Yokas' sister-in-law, Natalie.
Her eyes were red rimmed from crying, the sleeve of her white blouse torn as she stood there, shaking, her left arm cradling her right arm.
"What--?" His mind formed questions that he couldn't even begin to verbalize.
"I'm sorry..." Natalie whispered. "I didn't know who...who else to come to..."
Mikey stared at her for a long moment, not sure what to say, not comprehending what was going on as his mind remained fuzzy from sleep. After a couple seconds, he shook his head, then stepped aside, motioning her inside. "Come in...what happened?"
She took in a breath as she stepped into the dark apartment, slowly turning to the stranger she'd chosen to come to for help. A stranger she felt knew her so well, even from the few words exchanged between them at the restaurant. "Ron..." she whispered again, her whole body shuddering, sending pain up through her. "He...he was so angry..." she told him, tears streaming down her face.
He felt sick to his stomach at her words, instantly remembering seeing his mother right after his father had beaten her. Remembered cowering in the closets with his brother as their dad raged on about one thing or another, terrified. He quickly shoved the thoughts aside. "He hurt you?"
She swallowed hard, then slowly nodded. "He...I think he broke my arm..." she whispered again.
Mikey moved toward her, startled when she backed away just slightly. He immediately backed off, realizing he'd violated her personal space and regretting it. "We need to get you to a hospital," he told her.
"No!" Natalie pleaded with him. More tears streamed down her face as she stared back at him. "It's the first place he'll look."
"Shit," he muttered, realizing she was probably right. Realization suddenly hit him. "That's why you're here...he wouldn't think to look for you here?"
She nodded. "There was no other safe place I could think to go."
"Right." Mikey scratched his head, trying to think of what to do. What would Moe do? he wondered, then wondered if his brother had been in the same position with Faith recently. "All right, um...we'll get in my car, and I'll drive us to Jersey and take you to one of the hospitals there."
Natalie paused for a moment, before slowly nodding, "Thank you, Mikey."
"No problem." He quickly grabbed his car keys off the floor where he'd dropped them the night before and held the door open for her.
She looked at him again, this time with relief in her eyes, so glad she'd come to him. She walked out the door ahead of him.
Mikey ran a nervous hand through his hair and followed her out the door. He could have really used a hit right about then.
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Emily sat on the middle of the living room floor of her aunt and uncle's home along with Charlie and her cousin, Ryan. She sadly looked over at the two of them, watched how they were playing together with Ryan's little plastic soldiers. She held three of the small plastic men in her own hand, and all she wanted to do was cry. Ryan had asked her if she wanted to play, at first she had wanted to, but now...now she couldn't stop thinking about her mom and dad, and how they were fighting.
"Can we play something else?" she asked, her voice very low. They didn't hear her. "Please?" she asked, this time raising the tone of her voice just slightly to get their attention.
Ryan quickly looked up at her, frowning slightly. "Why? We're having fun." he said back.
"I wish we lived here," Charlie said suddenly.
Emily shot a look at her brother. "No you don't!" she exclaimed, tossing one of the green men over at his and knocking five of them that were standing together down to the floor. "I wish we were home."
"Why?" he asked, making a face. He stood the men back up again.
"Because that's where Daddy is," she quickly said back.
Ryan looked at her, then back to Charile. He moved a few of his gray men forward, getting ready for the impending battle.
Charlie glared at her. "So?"
"So, he's our dad, that's why."
"Yeah, and he's a stupid jerk!"
"What'd your dad do anyways?" Ryan casually asked.
"No he's not!" Emily shouted back at him. "He loves us, Charlie!"
"Yes, he is a jerk. And I don't care, I don't love him," Charlie snapped. He turned to his cousin. "He's mean to my mom. All the time. I hate him!"
"Geez," Ryan shook his head. "Mind if I hate him too?"
"Nope, I don't mind," Charlie replied.
He grinned. "Maybe we should go fight him with my soldiers."
"Stop being mean about him!" Emily cried, fresh tears swelling up in her eyes. "He's our dad, and he loves us, and I love him!"
"Good for you." Charlie turned away from her. "I wish Uncle Stanley was our dad." He paused. "Or Uncle Bosco."
"Who's he?" Ryan asked, confused.
"Shut up!"
"He's my mom's partner. He's super cool. And he's really nice."
"Is he a cop?"
"Yep," Charlie said proudly.
Ryan stared with his mouth slightly open, having not really believed Charlie before. "Cool!"
"Mommy loves Daddy, she does!" Emily exclaimed, wanting to winning the battle.
Just then, Stanley walked into the room from down the hall. "Come on guys, play nicely," he said, seeing the sad expression on his young niece's face. He felt bad, knowing inside it was because of the situation with her mom and dad. He went to go over and say something to her when Faith came up behind him, and almost in that moment when she'd stopped at his side there was a knock on the door. Just great, that better not be that bastard thinking he can come round here and treat my sister like dirt, he thought to himself as he headed for the door. He'd only just opened the door when the urge to slam it there and then came over him.
"What the hell do you want?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice cool, but it just wasn't happening.
"I ah..." Fred stammered, standing there with a bouquet of flowers in one hand, wrapped gifts under his other arm. "I need to speak with Faith."
Faith folded her arms across her chest and looked at him wordlessly.
"Oh, great," Charlie grumbled, knocking all his army men over intentionally, anger in his action.
"Daddy!" Emily exclaimed, jumping to her feet and running over to him. She wrapped her arms around his stomach, while he patted her on the head.
"Hi sweetheart," he smiled, his gaze lifting and landing on Faith. "Can we talk, please?"
Her gaze dropped to the floor as she kept her arms wrapped around her stomach. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," she said, her voice quiet.
"You should leave," Stanley stated, his voice flat.
"No!" Emily shouted.
"Why do you always take his side?" Charlie demanded as he jumped to his feet and glared at his sister.
"It's okay sweetheart," Fred said, smiling down at his daughter. "Why don't you take these, there's one for you, and one for Charlie..." he said, handing her the gifts from under his arms. He glanced up at his son, hearing what he'd said, and seeing the way he was looking at his sister. "Come on Charlie," he began. "Please?"
"He sure is bald," Ryan remarked, making gun noises with his plastic men that were, incidentally, pointed in his uncle's direction.
"No. I don't want your stupid presents!" he said angrily. Without another word, he turned and ran up the stairs to his cousin's room and slammed the door.
Faith bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment. "Stanley, can you give us a few minutes?"
Emily flinched, hearing the door slam, and sadly took the presents from her dad. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him.
Stanley looked at Faith, not sure on that decision. "Yeah, sure..." he soon said, turning his attention over to Ryan. "Come on, we'll go get ice cream," he told him.
"Thanks," she said softly.
Ryan made a face, before reluctantly rising to his feet. "Fine!"
Stanley just nodded. "Go get your mom first," he told Ryan, and he went down the hall to where his mom was.
Faith looked at her daughter, her heart aching at the pleading look she saw in Emily's eyes.
Ryan returned a moment later, scowling deeply, Joanna following shortly behind him. He trudged out the door, pushing past his uncle, not even bothering to say excuse me as he went.
"Kids," Fred laughed, smiling over at Stanley, who merely shooky his head in disgust before stepping out the door, off to find where his son ran off to.
Faith didn't smile back at his comment. Every muscle in her body was tense, despite the two and a half hour run she and Bosco had gone on that morning.
Joanna shot Faith a look, then followed her husband and son out the front door, pulling it shut behind her.
There was a silent moment and Fred let out a low sigh."Thank you..." he told Faith.
She merely looked at him, then turned away. "You want some coffee?" she asked, her tone civil, not willing to fight with him in front of her daughter, not again.
"No, thanks...can we sit, please?" he asked, motioning toward the sofa.
"Go ahead. I'd prefer to stand," she answered.
He let out a breath. "Yeah, of course...I'm sorry."
Faith leaned back against the wall, arms still folded across her stomach. She waited for him to say whatever it was he was going to say.
Fred looked down at his daughter for a moment. "Can I talk to your mom alone for a minute?" he asked, his voice very gentle, caring.
Emily nodded, then wrapped her arms around him again, "I love you daddy," she cried, before pulling away and slowly making her way down the corridor, the gifts for her and her brother still in her arms.
Watching her leave, Fred turned back to Faith. "I was...way out of line, Faith, and I'm...I'm really sorry."
"Out of line doesn't really even begin to cover it," she answered, her voice quiet.
"I know..." he replied, nodding. "I was rude, arrogant...I was disrespectful to you, your feelings, and your friends."
"Yes, you were."
"I was. I can't ask you to forgive me...I know...but, I'd like you to give me another chance, please, Faith..." he said.
She closed her eyes, feeling nothing but emptiness inside of her at the thought of going back to him. "Give me one good reason why I should."
"Because without you, my life...it isn't complete."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before." She opened her eyes, surprised by the anger in her voice as she spoke. "I'm tired of it, Fred. I'm sick of fighting with you, I'm sick of being on edge and unhappy all the time. I don't think it's worth it."
"It's not, I know it's not...but I'll change, please...I need you, Faith...I need you in my life. Please. You can't leave me. Please."
Faith looked away and caught sight of Emily standing at the end of the hallway, staring back at her, a hopeful expression on her face. Her chest tightened. How could she take her kids away from their father? How could she even be selfish enough to *consider* it? They needed him. He was a good father, no matter what Bosco said.
She turned to look at him. "We'll come home with you. On one condition."
A sigh of relief. "Anything, anything you want..." he told her, pleading.
"I want you to start seeing a counselor to learn how to manage your anger."
He stared at her for a moment. "Okay. I promise. Anything if it means you stay."
"And no more fighting in front of the kids. At all. I mean it. I won't have Emily growing up thinking she has to put up with a man who has no respect for her because you have none for me."
Fred nodded. "Things are going to change, I promise," he told her. "No more fighting, at all, not in front of the kids, not away from them...I promise, Faith."
She gazed back at him, wanting to believe him. She knew she was doing the right thing for her kids.
That was what was important. And anything else Fred threw at her she could handle. She always had in the past. She felt a familiar numb sensation wash over her as she slowly nodded. "Let's go home."
He smiled, whispering, "Thank you."
She almost told him she wasn't doing this for him, but she held her tongue and turned to look down the hallway. "Em? Can you come here?" she called softly.
There was only a moment of silence, when Emily came back down the hallway, looking hopefully up at her mother. She didn't say anything, scared she might say something wrong.
"Can you please go up and get your brother?"
She nodded, before turning around and heading back down the hallway.
Faith closed her eyes tightly as she turned away from her husband, letting out a slow, deep breath.
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Charlie sat across the table from his mom and dad, Emily on his right. He looked only at his mother. "Why do we have to go back?" he demanded angrily. "I like it here."
Faith took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Because this isn't our home. Our home is back at our place, with the four of us."
"Charlie..." Emily pleaded, trying not to cry, especially after what their parents had just announced.
"Things are going to be different Charlie..." Fred told his son. "I promise, okay pal?"
"I want to stay here," he said flatly, totally ignoring his dad.
Faith closed her eyes, then opened them again. "I'm sorry, but you can't. We're a family. We have our problems, but we stick together."
"That's what families are meant to do," Fred added.
"I just want to go home," Emily said, sighing. "When can we go?" she asked, looking at her dad.
Fred rose his eyebrow slightly, glancing over at Faith.
"We can go now," she answered tiredly. Her gaze drifted to where her brother stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes locked on her.
"You're leaving?" Stanley asked, disbelieving, anger surging through him when Fred turned on his seat and looked up at him.
Faith rose to her feet, desperately wanting to divert any conflict right then. She pulled him aside. "Yeah, we are," she said quietly.
He lowered his voice. "Is that a good idea?" he asked.
She looked down at the floor. "They need their father."
"What about everything else, everything you told me he's been doing to you, Faith? You don't deserve that," he said, a pleading sadness in his voice.
"It's gonna be different, things are going to change," she said, her voice flat. She didn't believe her own words, and she knew he wasn't about to, either.
"Different, like how?" he asked, angered, though still keeping his voice low. "By not emotionally abusing you in front of your kids? By leaving you little love notes to say how sorry he is? It's what's called a honeymoon period, Faith...it won't last for long. You can't go back to him, not if you care about the safety of you *and* your kids."
"Fred would never hurt the kids," she said, lifting her gaze to meet his. "He's a good father."
"If he was a good father, he'd never have started to abuse you," he stated.
She tensed. "He's never laid a hand on me, Stanley."
He looked at her. "No. Because he only abuses you emotionally, right?" he asked, his tone a bitter sarcasm, but serious.
"We're leaving." Faith turned away from him and looked back at her kids and her husband. "Let's go," she said to them, nodding toward the front door. She ignored the worried, shocked look on her brother's face. He may have been her brother, but he didn't know what was best for her kids. She glanced at Emily and Charlie as they stood up, and caught sight of a smirk on Fred's face as he looked at Stanley. Wordlessly, she turned around and followed her children out the front door, not looking behind her.
* * *
Part Two
It had been much too long since Angela had seen her son as happy as he was right then. Too many sleepless nights wondering if he would ever settle down and have a family of his own. And here she was, sitting in the front seat of the church, tears streaming down her lightly powdered face as she watched as her son stepped towards the only woman who had ever made him happy.
She held her breath as he lifted her veil, Faith's beautiful face smiling back at the man she was about to wed. There was a softness in her smile as she looked at him, and Angela felt a full sob come up. This was the happiest day of her life. She felt a hand on her arm, and she glanced to her right, only there wasn't anyone there. "Ma.." Bosco called, and she looked up at the altar again, he was looking at her, only it had changed. He was in his black t-shirt and jeans, rather than his tux.
"Ma!"
She jumped, and suddenly she was sitting in the small kitchen of her son's apartment. "What?" she asked back, slightly annoyed that he had broken her from the memories of her dream from the night before.
Bosco stared at her. "Where were you?"
She frowned. "Honey....don't....I was...thinking."
He raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
She took a long look at him. "So, last night...I'm really worried about Faith. That husband of hers, and his family?" she asked, shaking her head.
He immediately looked down at the table, memories from the horrible dinner the night before flooding his mind. "Yeah," he said quietly.
Angela lifted her glass of orange juice and took a long sip. "I don't like the thought of her being with that man," she said, her own voice shaking as she thought. Memories of her relationship with Maurice's father flooding back in her mind. She quickly took another sip of her drink.
His hand tightened around his glass of water. "He's an asshole."
She laughed slightly. "That's putting it mildly, Maurice. He's violent towards her," she then said, pausing as she lifted her eyes to look at Bosco, his hand gripped the glass even more. "You need to get her out of there."
He swallowed hard, losing his appetite completely. "She says he's never hurt her."
"Oh for Chr..." Angela stopped herself. "There is no way, with what we saw yesterday, that that son of a bitch isn't hurting her."
"What am I supposed to do, Ma? Huh? Kidnap her?" He shoved his chair away from the table. "I want to help her, but she won't *let* me help her. So what do I do?"
She looked up at him, shocked and pained by his tone. "I don't know, Maurice, but something needs to be done....she's not safe. Not her. Not her kids."
He ran a hand through his hair and shut his eyes. "I know that. But I don't know what to do. I wish--" He cut himself off and shook his head, looked away.
"Tell me..." she quietly asked.
Bosco swallowed hard again. "I wish I'd met her first, instead of him," he said, his voice nearly inaudible.
"I wish you had too, you would have treated her a damnsight better than that...if it all goes to hell, and I know it will, you have to be there for her...promise me you'll be there for her, Maurice."
"Always."
Angela nodded, feeling a sense of relief coming over her in knowing that he would be there for his partner. The woman she knew he was very much in love with.
Bosco moved away from the table. "Do you want some more lasagna?" he asked, his voice distant.
She shook her head. "I ah...got a call from Mikey."
He paused. "Yeah?" He didn't like the tone of voice she spoke with.
Angela paused as she looked across at her son. "I think he's using again," she said, hating to think the worst of her youngest boy, but she was a mother, and mother's worried.
Bosco's throat tightened and he looked away from her. He'd hoped that Mikey would stay clean this time, but somehow found himself unsurprised by the news that he was probably back to his old ways. He poured himself another glass of water and downed the whole thing in seconds.
"I didn't want to tell you, not with everything that's happened...but he called me last night, said he'd be out of town a few days...I'm worried, Maurice...I hate the idea of him touching that stuff any more," she said, her voice racked with anxiety and fear.
"If he's dealing again...I'll have to arrest him," Bosco said flatly, not facing her.
Angela looked directly at him, though he wasn't looking at her. "I'm worried he's using," she said, voice slightly harsh. "Dealing's bad, I know...but if he's using...I thought he'd quit."
"Yeah, because he's quit so many times before successfully," he replied sarcastically.
"Maurice," Angela pleaded.
He sighed and closed his eyes. "Sorry." He turned to look at her. "Look, I'll try to talk to him whenever he gets back, but I can't make you any promises, Ma."
She nodded. "I know, but thank you..."
"Yeah," he said softly, his mind drifting back to Faith.
There was a moment's silence and Angela let out a soft sigh, knowing where her son's mind was at. "So what are you going to do?" she quietly asked.
Bosco blinked and looked at her, saw the concern in her eyes. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. "I don't know," he admitted quietly.
She nodded, the sudden urge to pull out a cigerette and light it up came over her and she shifted on her seat. "When are you going to see her next?"
"Tomorrow morning. We uh...we've been jogging every day. Early."
Angela stared at her son. "You have?" she asked, slightly shocked.
He met her gaze, frowning at her surprise. "Yeah...why?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, I just didn't know you jogged, that was all."
"Actually, I...don't, really...it was her idea. But now that I've started, I like it," he confessed.
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "I see..." she replied, nodding. "How long have you two been jogging partners?"
"Couple a weeks."
Her eyebrows lifted again. "Oh."
He sighed slightly. "What?"
"Nothing...just a little surprised, Maurice."
"Why?" he asked curiously.
"No reason," Angela replied, clearing her throat just slightly.
Bosco raised his eyebrows. "Right, Ma." Without another word he stood up and headed for the kitchen.
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Emily patiently waited with a wide smile on her face as her mom unlocked, then opened the door to their apartment. Home, she thought, happy that her mom and dad weren't fighting any more, and everything was fine. She had just taken three steps into the apartent when she heard a scurrying noise from her right. She'd only just turned around when a bundle of ginger and white fur stopped at her side and she saw a beautiful long haired puppy sitting there, a white patch over one eye, a ginger one over the other. "A puppy!" she screamed with delight, reaching down and picking the small-cat sized puppy up into her arms.
Charlie followed his sister inside, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the animal. He looked back at his mom, confused.
"You like her?" Fred asked, glancing down at his son, then daughter.
Faith looked from her kids to her husband, feeling just as surprised and confused as her son appeared to be. "When did you--?"
"She's beautiful!" Emily shouted, laughing as she hugged the dog again.
Fred looked at his wife. "This morning...I know how much Emily and Charlie have wanted one, so I...picked her up fro the pound."
"Puppies are expensive, Fred," she said, her voice soft.
He shook his head. "Not really."
"Food, vet bills, accessories..."
He looked at her. "It's all worth it..." he said, his voice pleasant. "Look how happy Emily is."
Faith turned to look at her daughter. She hadn't seen her look that happy since...she couldn't even remember when. She smiled slightly. "Does she have a name?"
Fred shrugged, and turned to Emily. "What are you going to call him, sweetie?" he asked, giving a short smile to Charlie, before looking at Emily once more.
Emily looked up at both her parents, then over at her brother. "Santa," she said, grinning widely. "Look at his chin, it's white, and so is his chest...just like Santa!" she exclaimed.
Charlie couldn't help the grin that formed on his face. "Santa lives at our house!"
Faith chuckled.
Fred laughed, "So he does," he grinned. "Now, you both have to walk him every day, okay? Even if it's just in our building."
"We will," Charlie promised quickly, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be mad at his father.
Just then the telephone rang.
"I'll get it," Fred quickly said, stepping past Charlie and Emily as he went, headed straight for the kitchen area.
Faith smiled at her kids as she knelt down to look at the new puppy who was currently licking Charlie's face. She reached out and gently scratched its head. Santa turned his head to look at her, then licked her hand. Her smile widened. "Very friendly."
Emily laughed, watching Santa. "Isn't he great?" she smiled widely, laughing again as he sneezed, not once, but three times.
Charlie cuddled the mutt in his arms. "I can't believe we have a dog!"
Faith was startled as Santa wiggled free of her son's grasp and jumped over to her lap, placing his front paws on her legs. "Hi there," she said softly, patting the dog's head.
"He likes you!" Emily laughed again, reaching over and scratching under his chin. "Can he sleep in our room tonight, pleeeeaaaaase?" she asked her mom, begging.
"Yeah, of course, Em."
Charlie looked at his mom, a hopeful look on his face. "Can we stay home from school tomorrow to take care of Santa?"
"Please, Mom, can we please stay home tomorrow?" Emily asked as well, giving her mom a hopeful smile.
Faith shook her head. "No, you can't skip school, guys. Sorry."
"Awwww...."
"Come on, Mom..please?" Charlie begged.
She sighed. "No. School's too important. But you can play with Santa all you want when you get home from school tomorrow."
Emily pouted.
Faith started to say something else when Fred walked back over. She glanced up at him. "Who was on the phone?"
"Friend from work," he quickly replied, glancing down at his smiling kids. "You guys want to go feed Santa in the kitchen, there's a couple bags of food in there for him."
Charlie immediately stood up and headed to the kitchen, looking over his shoulder where Santa still sat in his mom's lap as she scratched his ear.
Emily pushed herself up with her hands, and rose to her feet, "Come on Santa..." she called, snapping her fingers as she started walking toward the kitchen, looking behind her to make sure he followed.
Faith glanced from the puppy to her kids, then gently picked him up and set him back on the floor. "Go on," she said softly to him. Santa looked at her for a moment, then turned and bounded after Em and Charlie excitedly.
"He really likes you," Fred said, smiling as he glanced down at Faith, having watched as his kids and their puppy went around the corner.
"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed, rising to her feet.
There was a pause of silence.
"So, are things okay between us...?" he quietly asked, hopeful.
Faith rested her hand on the back of the sofa and gazed at the family picture hanging on the wall. It had been taken last Christmas. Fred had his arms around each of the kids and she stood beside him. All of them were smiling. Emily and Charlie both looked so happy in that photo. She swallowed hard. "Yeah."
He smiled, "Good, I'm glad."
She simply nodded, listening as her kids talked and giggled excitedly over their new puppy from the other room.
"You want a bite to eat?" he asked, his voice still so quiet.
"You know, I'm not really very hungry right now. I'll fix something in awhile, okay?"
He nodded, "Okay. What about a drink?"
"Nah, I'm good. But thanks. I think I'm gonna go take a shower, okay?"
Fred nodded again, "Sure."
Faith gave him a brief, forced smile, then turned and headed down the hallway.
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Mikey quickly unlocked the door to his apartment, glancing down the dimly lit corridors nervously. No one was around. He turned the door handle and opened the door for Natalie, who stood behind him.
Natalie looked at him, she could see the fear in his face, and knew it was all because of her. Because she'd come to him to escape the reign of abuse her husband was constantly dealing her. She stepped into the apartment, weary of the sudden coldness that fell on her and she wound her arm around herself, careful of her other arm that was hung in a sling, white cast on it. "Why's it so cold in here?" she asked.
"Sorry, I'll uh...turn up the heat," he said quickly, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. He turned the lock and headed for the thermostat.
Natalie watched as he turned the dial. "Thanks...I ah...I'm sorry..."
He glanced at her. "For what?"
"Putting you through all this trouble."
Mikey shook his head, running one hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it." He hesitated, looking at her.
She looked at him, then glanced around the apartment. "Do you...live here alone?" she quietly asked, slowly turning back to him.
"Yeah, yeah, I do." He swallowed hard. "Hey, listen. Um, if..." He cut himself off, feeling embarrassed.
Her brow creased slightly. "Tell me...please..."
"I was just gonna say that...if you want to...need to, I mean...you're uh...welcome to stay here til, you know...whenever..."
Natalie gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Mikey. You don't know what that means."
"Actually, yeah, I do," he said softly, his tone distant.
She swallowed. Somehow she knew he did. As if he'd seen it all before. She closed her eyes, letting herself hear the sound of her breath as she released a soft sigh. Her eyes opened again, and she suddenly felt fear rise up over her again. "What if he rings the hospital?" she asked, panicked.
"We didn't use your real name. He'll never know. And he won't think to look for you here."
"Thank God...I don't think I could deal with him..hitting me, not again...if he knew."
"I'll kill him before I let that happen."
Another smile from Natalie, "Thank you...for, protecting me..." she said, her voice suddenly quiet again.
Mikey swallowed hard, still not sure why he felt so connected to this woman he barely knew. "You're welcome."
There was another pause of silence, when Natalie walked back over to Mikey. She softly placed her good hand on his arm, reached up on the tips of her toes just slightly, and lightly brushed her lips against his cheek. She stepped back, smiling softly, before letting go of his arm.
He stared at her for a long moment, surprised by her action. Then he smiled back at her.
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Faith stood at the stove making homeade sauce for the spaghetti she was fixing for dinner. She smiled over her shoulder as her kids sat on the floor playing with Santa. They'd been playing with him all afternoon and hadn't grown bored yet.
She glanced over at Fred, who was leaning back against the wall, watching their kids, as well, a smile on his face. She had to admit, this was kind of nice. Calm, peaceful. Like the way things used to be.
Just then there was a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," Fred said, pushing himself away from the wall as he cast a glance over at Faith. He headed straight for the door, unlatched the latch and pulled the door open. His brother Ron stood there, anger written all over his face. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"She's gone," Ron said shortly, stepping past Fred and walking inside the apartment.
Fred's brow creased and he closed the door, "What do you mean, she's gone?"
"Natalie. She's gone. She was at home when I left for work this morning, and when I got back she was gone."
"Do you know where she went?"
"If I knew where she went, would I be standing here talking to you?" Ron demanded. He shook his head. "I've called everyone, her mother, her sister, her best friend. No one's seen her."
"She can't have gone far, why the hell would she take off any way?" Fred asked, shocked.
"Maybe your *wife* put the idea in her head," he replied tensely.
He looked at him, then let out a sigh. That bitch, he thought angrily. "I'll find out, and if she did..."
"I want to talk to her myself." Without waiting for Fred to respond, Ron turned and headed into the kitchen. He glared at Faith. "Did you tell her to leave me?"
Faith looked up, startled at the sound of her brother-in-law's voice. "Excuse me?"
"Natalie. Did you tell her she should leave me?" he demanded.
She stared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about. Natalie left?"
"Yeah, she left. I'm sure you knew that, though. What I want is to know where she went! And I want to know now!"
"Mom?"
Faith looked over at Charlie, who was standing a few feet away looking worried.
Fred stepped up behind his brother, an angered look on his face as he scowled at Faith. He knew she was lying.
"It's okay, Charlie. Why don't you and Em go play in your room for a little bit, okay?"
He frowned deeply, then looked back at his older sister.
"Do we have to?" Emily asked innocently, walking over with Santa at her side.
"Yeah, but just for a little while, okay? Your dad, Uncle Ron and I need to talk about some grown up stuff." Faith reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear.
"Awww..." Emily sighed.
"Go on, Sweetie," she urged softly. She kissed Emily's forehead then nodded to Charlie.
With a sigh, Charlie moved past them and headed back toward he and Emily's bedroom. He turned to see Santa sit down at his mom's feet and he glanced at Emily, waiting for her.
Emily took one more look at her mom, saddened, then turned and started walking toward Charlie, when she realized Santa wasn't following her. She turned around where she stood and looked at the young pup. "Santa...here boy..."
Santa looked at her, but remained at Faith's feet.
Charlie shrugged, a slight frown on his face. "Leave him."
Emily didn't want to, so she called him again, but still nothing. Reluctantly, she turned and continued for their room.
The second the kids' bedroom door closed, Ron turned his attention back to Faith. "Where is she, Faith?"
She folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know."
"Don't lie," Fred immediately snapped.
Her eyes widened slightly and she looked at him. "I'm not lying. How the hell would I know where she went?"
"Maybe because the two of you were conspiring against me at dinner last night!" Ron snapped.
"Because she's your little buddy!"
Faith shook her head in disbelief. This is insane, she thought. "I don't know where Natalie is. But you know something? Even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you," she said angrily.
Ron glared at her and took a step forward.
Santa growled loudly.
"Call your dog off," Ron commanded.
"I think you need to leave," Faith said calmly.
"He doesn't have to leave!" Fred shouted, attempting to shoo Santa away with his foot. "He's my brother!"
"Keep your voice down before the kids hear you screaming again," she said tensely.
He eyed her angrily.
Ron looked from his brother to Faith again. "If I find out that you know where my wife is and you didn't tell me..." He shook his head.
Her eyes narrowed. "I'd advise you not to finish that sentence, Ron. It's not very smart to threaten a police officer."
Without another word, Ron turned and headed toward the front door, pausing for Fred to catch up.
"Police officer!" Fred laughed, shaking his head in disgust as he headed over to the door where his brother was. "I'm sorry about that..."
"I have to find Natalie," Ron replied, ignoring his brother's apology.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'll make sure she tells me," he added, his voice dark.
"Thanks." He set his jaw. "When the hell did you get a mutt anyway?"
Fred instantly rolled his eyes. "Earlier, bribing those kids with one was the only way to make that bitch stay."
"Whatever works." Ron exhaled deeply. "I'll have my cell phone on if you find anything out. I'm going to look for her some more. See you later."
"Yeah, see you later, Ron."
He nodded, opened the front door and walked out, pulling it shut behind him.
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Faith stood tensely at the stove as she stirred the spaghetti sauce so it was nice and smooth. She knew Emily and Charlie both hated clumpy sauce, and she wasn't too fond of it herself. Santa sat at her feet looking up at her. She heard the door close in the living room and hoped that the sound meant Ron had left. Seconds later she heard footsteps making their way toward the kitchen. Great, she thought tiredly.
"What the hell game do you think you're playing, huh, Faith!?" Fred exclaimed, grabbing her by the arm.
"Let go of me," she said, trying to yank her arm away from him.
Santa barked at him.
"No! Not until you tell me where Natalie is," he told her, his voice strong as he yanked her closer to him, before then shoving her backward, though still holding onto her.
"I don't know where she is! Now let me go!"
"NO!" he shouted again, this time shoving her backward harder.
She winced in pain as her back hit the stove handle. "Fred, please!"
Fred ground his teeth. "Don't make me force you, Faith...tell me where that little bitch is!"
As he forced her back against the stove again, gripping tightly on to her arm, she reached behind her with her other hand to keep her balance. A searing pain tore through her. She quickly pulled her hand away from the hot burner, tears stinging her eyes. "Dammit," she whispered, wincing as she glanced down at the bright red skin.
"Oh, shit!" Fred exclaimed, taking Faith's hand in his so he could look at it. "Baby, I'm so sorry!"
She pulled away from him, flinching at his touch. She turned on the cold tap water and let it run for a minute, sliding her hand underneath the stream of water. She immediately winced, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out at the pain.
"Faith, I'm really really sorry... I didn't mean for you to burn your arm..."
"Yeah, well, what did you think was going to happen when you shove me up against the hot stove, Fred?" she asked as she grimaced at the stinging in her hand. The skin was already starting to blister.
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to shove you..... I don't know what happened..." he tried to explain.
There was a hint of desperation, pleading to his tone. She turned to look at him and saw the tears in his eyes.
"I'm really sorry, baby..."
She swallowed hard. She hated to see him cry. It made her feel guilty. "You know what? It's not even that bad. It's all right," she told him, trying to ignore the pain.
He gave her a very faint smile. "Why don't you, go sit down...I'll finish getting dinner ready."
"You know what? I'll just wrap my hand and I can finish." She started to move past him.
"Faith..." he called after her
She paused but didn't turn to face him. "Yeah?"
"I love you."
Faith cringed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. "Me too," she said softly, a little lie. One of so many. Without another word she headed for the bathroom again.
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She lay awake in the darkness, one of his arms was draped over her waist. Other than the sound of Fred's light snoring from behind her, the apartment was utterly silent. The kids had gone to bed hours ago. Dinner had been quiet. Emily and Charlie both seemed to notice that something was wrong, but neither had said a word. Even Santa seemed tense and uncomfortable as he'd sat by her feet all evening, followed her around wherever she went.
Faith winced as her hand throbbed. The aspirin she'd taken had worn off already and the pain had returned. She shifted slightly and carefully eased herself out from underneath her husband's arm, turning to see if she'd woken him. He remained asleep. She closed her eyes momentarily, then carefully opened the door to their bedroom and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her. She quietly padded across the hall to the bathroom and flipped on the light. She squinted as the light hurt her eyes. After a few moments she was able to see again.
She opened the medicine cabinet and quickly pulled out the bottle of Advil. She swallowed three down with a drink of water from the sink and closed the mirror again. As she reached to shut the light off again, she caught sight of her reflection.
Faith stared into the mirror for a long moment. She barely recognized herself anymore. Physically she looked the same, but her eyes had changed. They were dull. Lifeless. What the hell was happening to her?
A sob escaped her throat before she even realized she was crying and she sat down on the edge of the bathtub. And for once she didn't try to stop herself from crying.
Authors: Demelza and X_tremeroswellian
Email(s): demelza81@yahoo.co.nz and X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to us. They belong to Edward Allen Bernero and John Wells and a bunch of other people that we've never met before. Please don't sue.
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual content
Summary: Faith struggles to make the right decision for her family while Bosco and his mother discuss the events of the previous night. Meanwhile, Mikey Boscorelli is shocked when an unexpected visitor turns up on his doorstep.
Spoilers: Up through and including "The Unforgiven."
What the Mirror Reflects (Part One)
Mikey Boscorelli heard a distant knocking sound and he lifted his head from where he'd fallen asleep on his old sofa and squinted at the digital clock on top of his old black and white television. It read 9:24 a.m. He groaned and laid his head back down. The knock came again, the the rhythm quicker, like the person on the other side was in a hurry.
He reluctantly sat up, then pulled on a t-shirt he'd left on the coffee table the night before. He moved slowly toward the door, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He unlocked it and pulled it open without looking to see who it was first. His eyes widened as he found himself face-to-face with Faith Yokas' sister-in-law, Natalie.
Her eyes were red rimmed from crying, the sleeve of her white blouse torn as she stood there, shaking, her left arm cradling her right arm.
"What--?" His mind formed questions that he couldn't even begin to verbalize.
"I'm sorry..." Natalie whispered. "I didn't know who...who else to come to..."
Mikey stared at her for a long moment, not sure what to say, not comprehending what was going on as his mind remained fuzzy from sleep. After a couple seconds, he shook his head, then stepped aside, motioning her inside. "Come in...what happened?"
She took in a breath as she stepped into the dark apartment, slowly turning to the stranger she'd chosen to come to for help. A stranger she felt knew her so well, even from the few words exchanged between them at the restaurant. "Ron..." she whispered again, her whole body shuddering, sending pain up through her. "He...he was so angry..." she told him, tears streaming down her face.
He felt sick to his stomach at her words, instantly remembering seeing his mother right after his father had beaten her. Remembered cowering in the closets with his brother as their dad raged on about one thing or another, terrified. He quickly shoved the thoughts aside. "He hurt you?"
She swallowed hard, then slowly nodded. "He...I think he broke my arm..." she whispered again.
Mikey moved toward her, startled when she backed away just slightly. He immediately backed off, realizing he'd violated her personal space and regretting it. "We need to get you to a hospital," he told her.
"No!" Natalie pleaded with him. More tears streamed down her face as she stared back at him. "It's the first place he'll look."
"Shit," he muttered, realizing she was probably right. Realization suddenly hit him. "That's why you're here...he wouldn't think to look for you here?"
She nodded. "There was no other safe place I could think to go."
"Right." Mikey scratched his head, trying to think of what to do. What would Moe do? he wondered, then wondered if his brother had been in the same position with Faith recently. "All right, um...we'll get in my car, and I'll drive us to Jersey and take you to one of the hospitals there."
Natalie paused for a moment, before slowly nodding, "Thank you, Mikey."
"No problem." He quickly grabbed his car keys off the floor where he'd dropped them the night before and held the door open for her.
She looked at him again, this time with relief in her eyes, so glad she'd come to him. She walked out the door ahead of him.
Mikey ran a nervous hand through his hair and followed her out the door. He could have really used a hit right about then.
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Emily sat on the middle of the living room floor of her aunt and uncle's home along with Charlie and her cousin, Ryan. She sadly looked over at the two of them, watched how they were playing together with Ryan's little plastic soldiers. She held three of the small plastic men in her own hand, and all she wanted to do was cry. Ryan had asked her if she wanted to play, at first she had wanted to, but now...now she couldn't stop thinking about her mom and dad, and how they were fighting.
"Can we play something else?" she asked, her voice very low. They didn't hear her. "Please?" she asked, this time raising the tone of her voice just slightly to get their attention.
Ryan quickly looked up at her, frowning slightly. "Why? We're having fun." he said back.
"I wish we lived here," Charlie said suddenly.
Emily shot a look at her brother. "No you don't!" she exclaimed, tossing one of the green men over at his and knocking five of them that were standing together down to the floor. "I wish we were home."
"Why?" he asked, making a face. He stood the men back up again.
"Because that's where Daddy is," she quickly said back.
Ryan looked at her, then back to Charile. He moved a few of his gray men forward, getting ready for the impending battle.
Charlie glared at her. "So?"
"So, he's our dad, that's why."
"Yeah, and he's a stupid jerk!"
"What'd your dad do anyways?" Ryan casually asked.
"No he's not!" Emily shouted back at him. "He loves us, Charlie!"
"Yes, he is a jerk. And I don't care, I don't love him," Charlie snapped. He turned to his cousin. "He's mean to my mom. All the time. I hate him!"
"Geez," Ryan shook his head. "Mind if I hate him too?"
"Nope, I don't mind," Charlie replied.
He grinned. "Maybe we should go fight him with my soldiers."
"Stop being mean about him!" Emily cried, fresh tears swelling up in her eyes. "He's our dad, and he loves us, and I love him!"
"Good for you." Charlie turned away from her. "I wish Uncle Stanley was our dad." He paused. "Or Uncle Bosco."
"Who's he?" Ryan asked, confused.
"Shut up!"
"He's my mom's partner. He's super cool. And he's really nice."
"Is he a cop?"
"Yep," Charlie said proudly.
Ryan stared with his mouth slightly open, having not really believed Charlie before. "Cool!"
"Mommy loves Daddy, she does!" Emily exclaimed, wanting to winning the battle.
Just then, Stanley walked into the room from down the hall. "Come on guys, play nicely," he said, seeing the sad expression on his young niece's face. He felt bad, knowing inside it was because of the situation with her mom and dad. He went to go over and say something to her when Faith came up behind him, and almost in that moment when she'd stopped at his side there was a knock on the door. Just great, that better not be that bastard thinking he can come round here and treat my sister like dirt, he thought to himself as he headed for the door. He'd only just opened the door when the urge to slam it there and then came over him.
"What the hell do you want?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice cool, but it just wasn't happening.
"I ah..." Fred stammered, standing there with a bouquet of flowers in one hand, wrapped gifts under his other arm. "I need to speak with Faith."
Faith folded her arms across her chest and looked at him wordlessly.
"Oh, great," Charlie grumbled, knocking all his army men over intentionally, anger in his action.
"Daddy!" Emily exclaimed, jumping to her feet and running over to him. She wrapped her arms around his stomach, while he patted her on the head.
"Hi sweetheart," he smiled, his gaze lifting and landing on Faith. "Can we talk, please?"
Her gaze dropped to the floor as she kept her arms wrapped around her stomach. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," she said, her voice quiet.
"You should leave," Stanley stated, his voice flat.
"No!" Emily shouted.
"Why do you always take his side?" Charlie demanded as he jumped to his feet and glared at his sister.
"It's okay sweetheart," Fred said, smiling down at his daughter. "Why don't you take these, there's one for you, and one for Charlie..." he said, handing her the gifts from under his arms. He glanced up at his son, hearing what he'd said, and seeing the way he was looking at his sister. "Come on Charlie," he began. "Please?"
"He sure is bald," Ryan remarked, making gun noises with his plastic men that were, incidentally, pointed in his uncle's direction.
"No. I don't want your stupid presents!" he said angrily. Without another word, he turned and ran up the stairs to his cousin's room and slammed the door.
Faith bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment. "Stanley, can you give us a few minutes?"
Emily flinched, hearing the door slam, and sadly took the presents from her dad. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him.
Stanley looked at Faith, not sure on that decision. "Yeah, sure..." he soon said, turning his attention over to Ryan. "Come on, we'll go get ice cream," he told him.
"Thanks," she said softly.
Ryan made a face, before reluctantly rising to his feet. "Fine!"
Stanley just nodded. "Go get your mom first," he told Ryan, and he went down the hall to where his mom was.
Faith looked at her daughter, her heart aching at the pleading look she saw in Emily's eyes.
Ryan returned a moment later, scowling deeply, Joanna following shortly behind him. He trudged out the door, pushing past his uncle, not even bothering to say excuse me as he went.
"Kids," Fred laughed, smiling over at Stanley, who merely shooky his head in disgust before stepping out the door, off to find where his son ran off to.
Faith didn't smile back at his comment. Every muscle in her body was tense, despite the two and a half hour run she and Bosco had gone on that morning.
Joanna shot Faith a look, then followed her husband and son out the front door, pulling it shut behind her.
There was a silent moment and Fred let out a low sigh."Thank you..." he told Faith.
She merely looked at him, then turned away. "You want some coffee?" she asked, her tone civil, not willing to fight with him in front of her daughter, not again.
"No, thanks...can we sit, please?" he asked, motioning toward the sofa.
"Go ahead. I'd prefer to stand," she answered.
He let out a breath. "Yeah, of course...I'm sorry."
Faith leaned back against the wall, arms still folded across her stomach. She waited for him to say whatever it was he was going to say.
Fred looked down at his daughter for a moment. "Can I talk to your mom alone for a minute?" he asked, his voice very gentle, caring.
Emily nodded, then wrapped her arms around him again, "I love you daddy," she cried, before pulling away and slowly making her way down the corridor, the gifts for her and her brother still in her arms.
Watching her leave, Fred turned back to Faith. "I was...way out of line, Faith, and I'm...I'm really sorry."
"Out of line doesn't really even begin to cover it," she answered, her voice quiet.
"I know..." he replied, nodding. "I was rude, arrogant...I was disrespectful to you, your feelings, and your friends."
"Yes, you were."
"I was. I can't ask you to forgive me...I know...but, I'd like you to give me another chance, please, Faith..." he said.
She closed her eyes, feeling nothing but emptiness inside of her at the thought of going back to him. "Give me one good reason why I should."
"Because without you, my life...it isn't complete."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before." She opened her eyes, surprised by the anger in her voice as she spoke. "I'm tired of it, Fred. I'm sick of fighting with you, I'm sick of being on edge and unhappy all the time. I don't think it's worth it."
"It's not, I know it's not...but I'll change, please...I need you, Faith...I need you in my life. Please. You can't leave me. Please."
Faith looked away and caught sight of Emily standing at the end of the hallway, staring back at her, a hopeful expression on her face. Her chest tightened. How could she take her kids away from their father? How could she even be selfish enough to *consider* it? They needed him. He was a good father, no matter what Bosco said.
She turned to look at him. "We'll come home with you. On one condition."
A sigh of relief. "Anything, anything you want..." he told her, pleading.
"I want you to start seeing a counselor to learn how to manage your anger."
He stared at her for a moment. "Okay. I promise. Anything if it means you stay."
"And no more fighting in front of the kids. At all. I mean it. I won't have Emily growing up thinking she has to put up with a man who has no respect for her because you have none for me."
Fred nodded. "Things are going to change, I promise," he told her. "No more fighting, at all, not in front of the kids, not away from them...I promise, Faith."
She gazed back at him, wanting to believe him. She knew she was doing the right thing for her kids.
That was what was important. And anything else Fred threw at her she could handle. She always had in the past. She felt a familiar numb sensation wash over her as she slowly nodded. "Let's go home."
He smiled, whispering, "Thank you."
She almost told him she wasn't doing this for him, but she held her tongue and turned to look down the hallway. "Em? Can you come here?" she called softly.
There was only a moment of silence, when Emily came back down the hallway, looking hopefully up at her mother. She didn't say anything, scared she might say something wrong.
"Can you please go up and get your brother?"
She nodded, before turning around and heading back down the hallway.
Faith closed her eyes tightly as she turned away from her husband, letting out a slow, deep breath.
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Charlie sat across the table from his mom and dad, Emily on his right. He looked only at his mother. "Why do we have to go back?" he demanded angrily. "I like it here."
Faith took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Because this isn't our home. Our home is back at our place, with the four of us."
"Charlie..." Emily pleaded, trying not to cry, especially after what their parents had just announced.
"Things are going to be different Charlie..." Fred told his son. "I promise, okay pal?"
"I want to stay here," he said flatly, totally ignoring his dad.
Faith closed her eyes, then opened them again. "I'm sorry, but you can't. We're a family. We have our problems, but we stick together."
"That's what families are meant to do," Fred added.
"I just want to go home," Emily said, sighing. "When can we go?" she asked, looking at her dad.
Fred rose his eyebrow slightly, glancing over at Faith.
"We can go now," she answered tiredly. Her gaze drifted to where her brother stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes locked on her.
"You're leaving?" Stanley asked, disbelieving, anger surging through him when Fred turned on his seat and looked up at him.
Faith rose to her feet, desperately wanting to divert any conflict right then. She pulled him aside. "Yeah, we are," she said quietly.
He lowered his voice. "Is that a good idea?" he asked.
She looked down at the floor. "They need their father."
"What about everything else, everything you told me he's been doing to you, Faith? You don't deserve that," he said, a pleading sadness in his voice.
"It's gonna be different, things are going to change," she said, her voice flat. She didn't believe her own words, and she knew he wasn't about to, either.
"Different, like how?" he asked, angered, though still keeping his voice low. "By not emotionally abusing you in front of your kids? By leaving you little love notes to say how sorry he is? It's what's called a honeymoon period, Faith...it won't last for long. You can't go back to him, not if you care about the safety of you *and* your kids."
"Fred would never hurt the kids," she said, lifting her gaze to meet his. "He's a good father."
"If he was a good father, he'd never have started to abuse you," he stated.
She tensed. "He's never laid a hand on me, Stanley."
He looked at her. "No. Because he only abuses you emotionally, right?" he asked, his tone a bitter sarcasm, but serious.
"We're leaving." Faith turned away from him and looked back at her kids and her husband. "Let's go," she said to them, nodding toward the front door. She ignored the worried, shocked look on her brother's face. He may have been her brother, but he didn't know what was best for her kids. She glanced at Emily and Charlie as they stood up, and caught sight of a smirk on Fred's face as he looked at Stanley. Wordlessly, she turned around and followed her children out the front door, not looking behind her.
* * *
Part Two
It had been much too long since Angela had seen her son as happy as he was right then. Too many sleepless nights wondering if he would ever settle down and have a family of his own. And here she was, sitting in the front seat of the church, tears streaming down her lightly powdered face as she watched as her son stepped towards the only woman who had ever made him happy.
She held her breath as he lifted her veil, Faith's beautiful face smiling back at the man she was about to wed. There was a softness in her smile as she looked at him, and Angela felt a full sob come up. This was the happiest day of her life. She felt a hand on her arm, and she glanced to her right, only there wasn't anyone there. "Ma.." Bosco called, and she looked up at the altar again, he was looking at her, only it had changed. He was in his black t-shirt and jeans, rather than his tux.
"Ma!"
She jumped, and suddenly she was sitting in the small kitchen of her son's apartment. "What?" she asked back, slightly annoyed that he had broken her from the memories of her dream from the night before.
Bosco stared at her. "Where were you?"
She frowned. "Honey....don't....I was...thinking."
He raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
She took a long look at him. "So, last night...I'm really worried about Faith. That husband of hers, and his family?" she asked, shaking her head.
He immediately looked down at the table, memories from the horrible dinner the night before flooding his mind. "Yeah," he said quietly.
Angela lifted her glass of orange juice and took a long sip. "I don't like the thought of her being with that man," she said, her own voice shaking as she thought. Memories of her relationship with Maurice's father flooding back in her mind. She quickly took another sip of her drink.
His hand tightened around his glass of water. "He's an asshole."
She laughed slightly. "That's putting it mildly, Maurice. He's violent towards her," she then said, pausing as she lifted her eyes to look at Bosco, his hand gripped the glass even more. "You need to get her out of there."
He swallowed hard, losing his appetite completely. "She says he's never hurt her."
"Oh for Chr..." Angela stopped herself. "There is no way, with what we saw yesterday, that that son of a bitch isn't hurting her."
"What am I supposed to do, Ma? Huh? Kidnap her?" He shoved his chair away from the table. "I want to help her, but she won't *let* me help her. So what do I do?"
She looked up at him, shocked and pained by his tone. "I don't know, Maurice, but something needs to be done....she's not safe. Not her. Not her kids."
He ran a hand through his hair and shut his eyes. "I know that. But I don't know what to do. I wish--" He cut himself off and shook his head, looked away.
"Tell me..." she quietly asked.
Bosco swallowed hard again. "I wish I'd met her first, instead of him," he said, his voice nearly inaudible.
"I wish you had too, you would have treated her a damnsight better than that...if it all goes to hell, and I know it will, you have to be there for her...promise me you'll be there for her, Maurice."
"Always."
Angela nodded, feeling a sense of relief coming over her in knowing that he would be there for his partner. The woman she knew he was very much in love with.
Bosco moved away from the table. "Do you want some more lasagna?" he asked, his voice distant.
She shook her head. "I ah...got a call from Mikey."
He paused. "Yeah?" He didn't like the tone of voice she spoke with.
Angela paused as she looked across at her son. "I think he's using again," she said, hating to think the worst of her youngest boy, but she was a mother, and mother's worried.
Bosco's throat tightened and he looked away from her. He'd hoped that Mikey would stay clean this time, but somehow found himself unsurprised by the news that he was probably back to his old ways. He poured himself another glass of water and downed the whole thing in seconds.
"I didn't want to tell you, not with everything that's happened...but he called me last night, said he'd be out of town a few days...I'm worried, Maurice...I hate the idea of him touching that stuff any more," she said, her voice racked with anxiety and fear.
"If he's dealing again...I'll have to arrest him," Bosco said flatly, not facing her.
Angela looked directly at him, though he wasn't looking at her. "I'm worried he's using," she said, voice slightly harsh. "Dealing's bad, I know...but if he's using...I thought he'd quit."
"Yeah, because he's quit so many times before successfully," he replied sarcastically.
"Maurice," Angela pleaded.
He sighed and closed his eyes. "Sorry." He turned to look at her. "Look, I'll try to talk to him whenever he gets back, but I can't make you any promises, Ma."
She nodded. "I know, but thank you..."
"Yeah," he said softly, his mind drifting back to Faith.
There was a moment's silence and Angela let out a soft sigh, knowing where her son's mind was at. "So what are you going to do?" she quietly asked.
Bosco blinked and looked at her, saw the concern in her eyes. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. "I don't know," he admitted quietly.
She nodded, the sudden urge to pull out a cigerette and light it up came over her and she shifted on her seat. "When are you going to see her next?"
"Tomorrow morning. We uh...we've been jogging every day. Early."
Angela stared at her son. "You have?" she asked, slightly shocked.
He met her gaze, frowning at her surprise. "Yeah...why?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, I just didn't know you jogged, that was all."
"Actually, I...don't, really...it was her idea. But now that I've started, I like it," he confessed.
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "I see..." she replied, nodding. "How long have you two been jogging partners?"
"Couple a weeks."
Her eyebrows lifted again. "Oh."
He sighed slightly. "What?"
"Nothing...just a little surprised, Maurice."
"Why?" he asked curiously.
"No reason," Angela replied, clearing her throat just slightly.
Bosco raised his eyebrows. "Right, Ma." Without another word he stood up and headed for the kitchen.
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Emily patiently waited with a wide smile on her face as her mom unlocked, then opened the door to their apartment. Home, she thought, happy that her mom and dad weren't fighting any more, and everything was fine. She had just taken three steps into the apartent when she heard a scurrying noise from her right. She'd only just turned around when a bundle of ginger and white fur stopped at her side and she saw a beautiful long haired puppy sitting there, a white patch over one eye, a ginger one over the other. "A puppy!" she screamed with delight, reaching down and picking the small-cat sized puppy up into her arms.
Charlie followed his sister inside, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the animal. He looked back at his mom, confused.
"You like her?" Fred asked, glancing down at his son, then daughter.
Faith looked from her kids to her husband, feeling just as surprised and confused as her son appeared to be. "When did you--?"
"She's beautiful!" Emily shouted, laughing as she hugged the dog again.
Fred looked at his wife. "This morning...I know how much Emily and Charlie have wanted one, so I...picked her up fro the pound."
"Puppies are expensive, Fred," she said, her voice soft.
He shook his head. "Not really."
"Food, vet bills, accessories..."
He looked at her. "It's all worth it..." he said, his voice pleasant. "Look how happy Emily is."
Faith turned to look at her daughter. She hadn't seen her look that happy since...she couldn't even remember when. She smiled slightly. "Does she have a name?"
Fred shrugged, and turned to Emily. "What are you going to call him, sweetie?" he asked, giving a short smile to Charlie, before looking at Emily once more.
Emily looked up at both her parents, then over at her brother. "Santa," she said, grinning widely. "Look at his chin, it's white, and so is his chest...just like Santa!" she exclaimed.
Charlie couldn't help the grin that formed on his face. "Santa lives at our house!"
Faith chuckled.
Fred laughed, "So he does," he grinned. "Now, you both have to walk him every day, okay? Even if it's just in our building."
"We will," Charlie promised quickly, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be mad at his father.
Just then the telephone rang.
"I'll get it," Fred quickly said, stepping past Charlie and Emily as he went, headed straight for the kitchen area.
Faith smiled at her kids as she knelt down to look at the new puppy who was currently licking Charlie's face. She reached out and gently scratched its head. Santa turned his head to look at her, then licked her hand. Her smile widened. "Very friendly."
Emily laughed, watching Santa. "Isn't he great?" she smiled widely, laughing again as he sneezed, not once, but three times.
Charlie cuddled the mutt in his arms. "I can't believe we have a dog!"
Faith was startled as Santa wiggled free of her son's grasp and jumped over to her lap, placing his front paws on her legs. "Hi there," she said softly, patting the dog's head.
"He likes you!" Emily laughed again, reaching over and scratching under his chin. "Can he sleep in our room tonight, pleeeeaaaaase?" she asked her mom, begging.
"Yeah, of course, Em."
Charlie looked at his mom, a hopeful look on his face. "Can we stay home from school tomorrow to take care of Santa?"
"Please, Mom, can we please stay home tomorrow?" Emily asked as well, giving her mom a hopeful smile.
Faith shook her head. "No, you can't skip school, guys. Sorry."
"Awwww...."
"Come on, Mom..please?" Charlie begged.
She sighed. "No. School's too important. But you can play with Santa all you want when you get home from school tomorrow."
Emily pouted.
Faith started to say something else when Fred walked back over. She glanced up at him. "Who was on the phone?"
"Friend from work," he quickly replied, glancing down at his smiling kids. "You guys want to go feed Santa in the kitchen, there's a couple bags of food in there for him."
Charlie immediately stood up and headed to the kitchen, looking over his shoulder where Santa still sat in his mom's lap as she scratched his ear.
Emily pushed herself up with her hands, and rose to her feet, "Come on Santa..." she called, snapping her fingers as she started walking toward the kitchen, looking behind her to make sure he followed.
Faith glanced from the puppy to her kids, then gently picked him up and set him back on the floor. "Go on," she said softly to him. Santa looked at her for a moment, then turned and bounded after Em and Charlie excitedly.
"He really likes you," Fred said, smiling as he glanced down at Faith, having watched as his kids and their puppy went around the corner.
"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed, rising to her feet.
There was a pause of silence.
"So, are things okay between us...?" he quietly asked, hopeful.
Faith rested her hand on the back of the sofa and gazed at the family picture hanging on the wall. It had been taken last Christmas. Fred had his arms around each of the kids and she stood beside him. All of them were smiling. Emily and Charlie both looked so happy in that photo. She swallowed hard. "Yeah."
He smiled, "Good, I'm glad."
She simply nodded, listening as her kids talked and giggled excitedly over their new puppy from the other room.
"You want a bite to eat?" he asked, his voice still so quiet.
"You know, I'm not really very hungry right now. I'll fix something in awhile, okay?"
He nodded, "Okay. What about a drink?"
"Nah, I'm good. But thanks. I think I'm gonna go take a shower, okay?"
Fred nodded again, "Sure."
Faith gave him a brief, forced smile, then turned and headed down the hallway.
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Mikey quickly unlocked the door to his apartment, glancing down the dimly lit corridors nervously. No one was around. He turned the door handle and opened the door for Natalie, who stood behind him.
Natalie looked at him, she could see the fear in his face, and knew it was all because of her. Because she'd come to him to escape the reign of abuse her husband was constantly dealing her. She stepped into the apartment, weary of the sudden coldness that fell on her and she wound her arm around herself, careful of her other arm that was hung in a sling, white cast on it. "Why's it so cold in here?" she asked.
"Sorry, I'll uh...turn up the heat," he said quickly, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. He turned the lock and headed for the thermostat.
Natalie watched as he turned the dial. "Thanks...I ah...I'm sorry..."
He glanced at her. "For what?"
"Putting you through all this trouble."
Mikey shook his head, running one hand through his hair. "Don't worry about it." He hesitated, looking at her.
She looked at him, then glanced around the apartment. "Do you...live here alone?" she quietly asked, slowly turning back to him.
"Yeah, yeah, I do." He swallowed hard. "Hey, listen. Um, if..." He cut himself off, feeling embarrassed.
Her brow creased slightly. "Tell me...please..."
"I was just gonna say that...if you want to...need to, I mean...you're uh...welcome to stay here til, you know...whenever..."
Natalie gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Mikey. You don't know what that means."
"Actually, yeah, I do," he said softly, his tone distant.
She swallowed. Somehow she knew he did. As if he'd seen it all before. She closed her eyes, letting herself hear the sound of her breath as she released a soft sigh. Her eyes opened again, and she suddenly felt fear rise up over her again. "What if he rings the hospital?" she asked, panicked.
"We didn't use your real name. He'll never know. And he won't think to look for you here."
"Thank God...I don't think I could deal with him..hitting me, not again...if he knew."
"I'll kill him before I let that happen."
Another smile from Natalie, "Thank you...for, protecting me..." she said, her voice suddenly quiet again.
Mikey swallowed hard, still not sure why he felt so connected to this woman he barely knew. "You're welcome."
There was another pause of silence, when Natalie walked back over to Mikey. She softly placed her good hand on his arm, reached up on the tips of her toes just slightly, and lightly brushed her lips against his cheek. She stepped back, smiling softly, before letting go of his arm.
He stared at her for a long moment, surprised by her action. Then he smiled back at her.
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Faith stood at the stove making homeade sauce for the spaghetti she was fixing for dinner. She smiled over her shoulder as her kids sat on the floor playing with Santa. They'd been playing with him all afternoon and hadn't grown bored yet.
She glanced over at Fred, who was leaning back against the wall, watching their kids, as well, a smile on his face. She had to admit, this was kind of nice. Calm, peaceful. Like the way things used to be.
Just then there was a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," Fred said, pushing himself away from the wall as he cast a glance over at Faith. He headed straight for the door, unlatched the latch and pulled the door open. His brother Ron stood there, anger written all over his face. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"She's gone," Ron said shortly, stepping past Fred and walking inside the apartment.
Fred's brow creased and he closed the door, "What do you mean, she's gone?"
"Natalie. She's gone. She was at home when I left for work this morning, and when I got back she was gone."
"Do you know where she went?"
"If I knew where she went, would I be standing here talking to you?" Ron demanded. He shook his head. "I've called everyone, her mother, her sister, her best friend. No one's seen her."
"She can't have gone far, why the hell would she take off any way?" Fred asked, shocked.
"Maybe your *wife* put the idea in her head," he replied tensely.
He looked at him, then let out a sigh. That bitch, he thought angrily. "I'll find out, and if she did..."
"I want to talk to her myself." Without waiting for Fred to respond, Ron turned and headed into the kitchen. He glared at Faith. "Did you tell her to leave me?"
Faith looked up, startled at the sound of her brother-in-law's voice. "Excuse me?"
"Natalie. Did you tell her she should leave me?" he demanded.
She stared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about. Natalie left?"
"Yeah, she left. I'm sure you knew that, though. What I want is to know where she went! And I want to know now!"
"Mom?"
Faith looked over at Charlie, who was standing a few feet away looking worried.
Fred stepped up behind his brother, an angered look on his face as he scowled at Faith. He knew she was lying.
"It's okay, Charlie. Why don't you and Em go play in your room for a little bit, okay?"
He frowned deeply, then looked back at his older sister.
"Do we have to?" Emily asked innocently, walking over with Santa at her side.
"Yeah, but just for a little while, okay? Your dad, Uncle Ron and I need to talk about some grown up stuff." Faith reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear.
"Awww..." Emily sighed.
"Go on, Sweetie," she urged softly. She kissed Emily's forehead then nodded to Charlie.
With a sigh, Charlie moved past them and headed back toward he and Emily's bedroom. He turned to see Santa sit down at his mom's feet and he glanced at Emily, waiting for her.
Emily took one more look at her mom, saddened, then turned and started walking toward Charlie, when she realized Santa wasn't following her. She turned around where she stood and looked at the young pup. "Santa...here boy..."
Santa looked at her, but remained at Faith's feet.
Charlie shrugged, a slight frown on his face. "Leave him."
Emily didn't want to, so she called him again, but still nothing. Reluctantly, she turned and continued for their room.
The second the kids' bedroom door closed, Ron turned his attention back to Faith. "Where is she, Faith?"
She folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know."
"Don't lie," Fred immediately snapped.
Her eyes widened slightly and she looked at him. "I'm not lying. How the hell would I know where she went?"
"Maybe because the two of you were conspiring against me at dinner last night!" Ron snapped.
"Because she's your little buddy!"
Faith shook her head in disbelief. This is insane, she thought. "I don't know where Natalie is. But you know something? Even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you," she said angrily.
Ron glared at her and took a step forward.
Santa growled loudly.
"Call your dog off," Ron commanded.
"I think you need to leave," Faith said calmly.
"He doesn't have to leave!" Fred shouted, attempting to shoo Santa away with his foot. "He's my brother!"
"Keep your voice down before the kids hear you screaming again," she said tensely.
He eyed her angrily.
Ron looked from his brother to Faith again. "If I find out that you know where my wife is and you didn't tell me..." He shook his head.
Her eyes narrowed. "I'd advise you not to finish that sentence, Ron. It's not very smart to threaten a police officer."
Without another word, Ron turned and headed toward the front door, pausing for Fred to catch up.
"Police officer!" Fred laughed, shaking his head in disgust as he headed over to the door where his brother was. "I'm sorry about that..."
"I have to find Natalie," Ron replied, ignoring his brother's apology.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'll make sure she tells me," he added, his voice dark.
"Thanks." He set his jaw. "When the hell did you get a mutt anyway?"
Fred instantly rolled his eyes. "Earlier, bribing those kids with one was the only way to make that bitch stay."
"Whatever works." Ron exhaled deeply. "I'll have my cell phone on if you find anything out. I'm going to look for her some more. See you later."
"Yeah, see you later, Ron."
He nodded, opened the front door and walked out, pulling it shut behind him.
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Faith stood tensely at the stove as she stirred the spaghetti sauce so it was nice and smooth. She knew Emily and Charlie both hated clumpy sauce, and she wasn't too fond of it herself. Santa sat at her feet looking up at her. She heard the door close in the living room and hoped that the sound meant Ron had left. Seconds later she heard footsteps making their way toward the kitchen. Great, she thought tiredly.
"What the hell game do you think you're playing, huh, Faith!?" Fred exclaimed, grabbing her by the arm.
"Let go of me," she said, trying to yank her arm away from him.
Santa barked at him.
"No! Not until you tell me where Natalie is," he told her, his voice strong as he yanked her closer to him, before then shoving her backward, though still holding onto her.
"I don't know where she is! Now let me go!"
"NO!" he shouted again, this time shoving her backward harder.
She winced in pain as her back hit the stove handle. "Fred, please!"
Fred ground his teeth. "Don't make me force you, Faith...tell me where that little bitch is!"
As he forced her back against the stove again, gripping tightly on to her arm, she reached behind her with her other hand to keep her balance. A searing pain tore through her. She quickly pulled her hand away from the hot burner, tears stinging her eyes. "Dammit," she whispered, wincing as she glanced down at the bright red skin.
"Oh, shit!" Fred exclaimed, taking Faith's hand in his so he could look at it. "Baby, I'm so sorry!"
She pulled away from him, flinching at his touch. She turned on the cold tap water and let it run for a minute, sliding her hand underneath the stream of water. She immediately winced, biting down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out at the pain.
"Faith, I'm really really sorry... I didn't mean for you to burn your arm..."
"Yeah, well, what did you think was going to happen when you shove me up against the hot stove, Fred?" she asked as she grimaced at the stinging in her hand. The skin was already starting to blister.
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to shove you..... I don't know what happened..." he tried to explain.
There was a hint of desperation, pleading to his tone. She turned to look at him and saw the tears in his eyes.
"I'm really sorry, baby..."
She swallowed hard. She hated to see him cry. It made her feel guilty. "You know what? It's not even that bad. It's all right," she told him, trying to ignore the pain.
He gave her a very faint smile. "Why don't you, go sit down...I'll finish getting dinner ready."
"You know what? I'll just wrap my hand and I can finish." She started to move past him.
"Faith..." he called after her
She paused but didn't turn to face him. "Yeah?"
"I love you."
Faith cringed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. "Me too," she said softly, a little lie. One of so many. Without another word she headed for the bathroom again.
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She lay awake in the darkness, one of his arms was draped over her waist. Other than the sound of Fred's light snoring from behind her, the apartment was utterly silent. The kids had gone to bed hours ago. Dinner had been quiet. Emily and Charlie both seemed to notice that something was wrong, but neither had said a word. Even Santa seemed tense and uncomfortable as he'd sat by her feet all evening, followed her around wherever she went.
Faith winced as her hand throbbed. The aspirin she'd taken had worn off already and the pain had returned. She shifted slightly and carefully eased herself out from underneath her husband's arm, turning to see if she'd woken him. He remained asleep. She closed her eyes momentarily, then carefully opened the door to their bedroom and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her. She quietly padded across the hall to the bathroom and flipped on the light. She squinted as the light hurt her eyes. After a few moments she was able to see again.
She opened the medicine cabinet and quickly pulled out the bottle of Advil. She swallowed three down with a drink of water from the sink and closed the mirror again. As she reached to shut the light off again, she caught sight of her reflection.
Faith stared into the mirror for a long moment. She barely recognized herself anymore. Physically she looked the same, but her eyes had changed. They were dull. Lifeless. What the hell was happening to her?
A sob escaped her throat before she even realized she was crying and she sat down on the edge of the bathtub. And for once she didn't try to stop herself from crying.
