Lightning Strikes

Chapter 1A

*****

OK so this follows DIRECTLY after the "Lightning Strikes---Prologue"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm gonna do something a little different with this story. We all know that there are a couple things that could happen when Faith walks out the door, and leaves Bosco. I'm going to write TWO, yes TWO different versions for each chapter :) Wish me luck!

If you haven't read the other stories in this series I suggest you go back and do so.

#1 Let the Sun Shine Through

#2 Rainy Season

#3 Chasing the Clouds Away

#4 Weathering the Storm

#5 Lightning Strikes

*****

The door slammed behind Faith, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She heard Bosco calling for her. Begging her not to leave him, but how could she stay. He had lied to her, and not just about the pills. There was so much more to it. Why didn't he just talk to her about what was going on? She would have understood. She would have *helped* him make it better, and if *she* couldn't make it better she would have found someone who could.

She stood there, frozen outside his door. "Faith?!" She heard the hurt in his voice, but she wasn't going to go back inside. Bosco had made his bed, and now he was going to have to lay in it.

With the pill bottle still in her hand she disappeared down the hallway, descended the steps, and headed for home.

*****

Bosco stood staring at the door; waiting for it to open, and for Faith to come back. How could she do this to him? How could she just walk out like that? Couldn't she see that he was hurting, and that he needed her? He would do anything for her, and he had always thought she would do the same in return. "Faith?!" He called again in hopes that she could hear him, and that she would come back. He needed her now more than ever.

His body continued to shake, gradually getting worse. As he stood there the dizziness began to overwhelm him, but the urge to vomit was even more powerful. He carefully made his way to the bathroom, and knelt in front of the porcelain God as he emptied what little was in his stomach and finished with dry heaves. Bosco sank down to the floor, and put his head in his shaky hands. His body hurt. He was dizzy, nauseous and tired. His stomach was killing him, and he couldn't stop his body from shaking.

He pushed himself off the floor. He needed something to fix this. There had to be something he could take that could make this feeling go away. With the sink practically holding him upright he rummaged through the medicine cabinet. Tylenol. That was all he had. Bosco threw the bottle into the sink with a clatter. Tylenol wasn't going to do the trick.

With his arms wrapped around himself he slowly walked toward the kitchen. He could feel the beginning of a cramp coming on, and he leaned against the wall to brace himself. He groaned as the cramp ripped through his stomach. When was this going to stop?

When the cramp had passed and his breathing was under control again he finished the journey to the kitchen. Maybe there was something in here. Some beer or some bourbon. That would have to ease the pain or at least mask it for a while. Nothing. There was nothing.

While his body screamed at him he walked back to the living room. As the room began to spin he grabbed onto the couch for support, and then sat down. "Faith?" he said softly. "Faith where are you?" he whispered as he curled up on the couch. Faith wasn't there, and the couch looked like it would be his only form of support for the night.

****

Faith stood in her kitchen with a bottle of water in her hand. The empty prescription bottle of Bosco's sat on the counter. She stared at it, burning a hole through it with her eyes.

35 pills? He took *35* sleeping pills in just a couple weeks. Her mind was screaming at her to do something other than stare at the pill bottle. She quickly glanced over at the phone, and debated calling him. Emphatically she shook her head from side to side. No. She wasn't going to call him. He was going to have to get through this on his own.

****

Bosco was curled up on the couch in pure agony. He had nothing in his apartment to cure what he was going through. What he needed was another couple sleeping pills, and he knew that wasn't going to happen. His thoughts had drifted to other things that could help him. Some sort of medicine that would make him drowsy. Tylenol PM or something would more than likely take the edge off, but he was in no shape to venture out of his apartment.

He went from hot to cold as he lay there battling cramp after cramp and wave after wave of nausea. If only Faith was with him. She could help him. A few minutes later he finally mustered up the energy to find his phone. He had to do something, and the only thing that made sense to his fuzzy, cloudy brain was to call Faith.

****

She looked back at the pill bottle, and brought the bottle of water to her lips to take a drink. The ringing of the phone startled her, and she spilt water down the front of her shirt. "Dammit," she mumbled as she tried to wipe her shirt dry. She looked at the caller ID. Boscorelli, Maurice. Faith thought twice before answering it. She wasn't in the mood to deal with this situation, but what if he really needed some kind of help. She was the only person he could really turn to.

"What is it?" she asked into the phone.

"Faith," he said softly. "I need…gawd I need something to fix this."

She could hear the pain and desperation in his voice. "What?" she asked coolly. "You need some more sleeping pills? Cause you're all out ya know. Can't get anymore from the good doctor either cause it says right here 'no refills'."

"No, I know. Faith please it hurts so bad. What can I take to stop this," he was begging her for help. 

Faith sighed heavily. "I don't know Bosco."

"Faith please," he said softly. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can you just come over here? I uh…I can't," he thought back to his promise of telling her his feelings. He knew that he hadn't done a very good job of it because if he had then he never would have gotten addicted to those pills. "I can't do this without you."

Her tone softened some. "I don't know what I can do for you."

"Just come back."

****

When she got to his apartment the door was still unlocked from when she had left earlier, and Bosco was in a tight ball on the couch. "Bosco?" she called out softly as she approached him.

He rolled onto his back, and looked at her. She was standing behind the couch looking down at him. He was thankful that she had agreed to come back, but he could see the hurt, anger and disappointment in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She shook her head. "You said that all ready Bosco, and saying I'm sorry isn't going to make this go away." Faith noticed the sweat on his forehead, and the paleness of his skin. "Come on. Let's get you back into bed," she walked around the couch, and helped him stand up.

When she had him sitting on the bed she rummaged through his drawers, and found some fresh sweats. "When you got that prescription filled did they give you any literature about the side effects and stuff?" He nodded. "Where are the papers?" her voice was harsh.

"In a drawer in the kitchen."

Faith threw the sweats she had found onto the bed. "Change into these, and if you're hot you might as well leave your shirt off. I'll be back in a minute." Bosco nodded, and watched her walk out of the room. He was glad she had come back to help him, but the hurt that he had caused her only created more pain to go along with his withdrawals.

A few minutes later Faith came back into the room with a bowl of water, a washrag, a bottle of water, and the information about the pills. She handed Bosco the bottle of water. "Drink some of this." He took a few drinks of the water, and handed it back to her. Faith placed the bottle on the nightstand as Bosco laid down on the bed. She held up the papers she had brought in. "Just to warn you, this is only going to get worse. The best thing for you would be to go to the hospital, and let them help you."

"No!" He shook his head, and ran a hand through his short hair. "I can't go there. Everybody will find out if I go there!"

"Fine," she said dryly. "But don't start crying to me when things get rough." She put the papers down next to the water, and turned to leave the room again.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a panic.

"Relax I'll be right back." Not long later she returned with the trashcan from the bathroom, and a chair from his kitchen table.

Bosco's eyes were closed tight as he tried to block out the pain, but he opened them when he heard her come back into the room. He looked at the trashcan in her hand. "What's that for?"

"You're gonna want to puke. It's part of the withdrawal process."

He nodded weakly. "Yeah, I experienced that earlier."

Without another word Faith dipped the washrag in the bowl of water she had brought in earlier, and began to cool off his forehead, and then his chest. She continued to do this as the night went on. Not once speaking a word to him or giving him any reassurance.

Instead she just sat there wiping his face and holding the trashcan for him when he threw up or dry heaved. She was as detached from the situation as she could make herself. Her only reason for being there with him right now was that he needed someone to take care of him.

She didn't love him. He could have avoided all of this if he had just told her what was going on. He *knew* that all he had to do was talk to her. They had talked about it before. All he had to do was open his mouth and let the words spill out. Since they had been together she thought he was getting better at sharing his feelings, but evidently she thought wrong.

Right now she couldn't love him. Not after what he had done.