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To Chase a Feather in the Wind	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1696 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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When Tom awoke, he found himself in a brightly lit private room. He did not remember moving from the ER but he figured he must have changed beds at some point. The medication he had been given had not only helped to numb the pain in his body, it had also made him sleepy. But now, two hours later, the medication was wearing off and his body screamed with pain, both internally and externally. Tears filled his eyes and struggling to a sitting position, his fingers frantically searched the bed until he located the nurse call button. As the pain intensified, he began to sob and holding the button in his hand, he pressed it several times, praying that a nurse would arrive without too much delay.
Several minutes passed before a middle-aged nurse entered his room. When she saw the tears streaming down his face, she hurried forward and placed a warm palm against his forehead. “Are you in pain sweetheart?” she asked in a soft voice.
Tom’s head nodded rapidly up and down as he gasped for breath. The nurse gently stroked his hair as she checked his pulse. “Okay sweetie, calm down and I’ll get you something to make you feel better.”
She quickly disappeared and Tom lay on the bed sobbing quietly. Moments later, she reappeared and injected the pain medication directly into the cannula inserted in his arm. “There you go honey, the medication will start to work in a couple of minutes. Can I get you anything else? Are you hungry?”
Shaking his head, Tom suddenly became aware that the bed sheet beneath him was wet and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I think I wet the bed,” he whispered.
The nurse pulled back the covers and inspected the sheet. “It’s okay sweetheart,” she reassured him, “you didn’t wet the bed. It’s just a little blood from your injuries. A doctor will be in soon to give you an internal exam and do a rape kit. We would have done is sooner but we’ve been swamped and—”
“No,” Tom muttered through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to.”
The nurse’s eyes shone with sympathy. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’ll be right here with you—”
Tom turned his head away and stared defiantly out of the window. “I said I don’t want to.”
Moving around to Tom’s line of vision, the nurse sat on the bed and took his hand in hers. “Why?” she asked gently.
An image of Booker’s face flashed into Tom’s mind and his lower lip started to quiver. “Because he didn’t mean to do it,” he whispered.
When it slowly dawned on Nurse Allman what he meant, her eyes grew wide. “You know the person who did this to you? Tom, you have to tell the police!”
“I’m the police,” Tom muttered stubbornly, “and I know what I’m doing.”
At the sound of someone intentionally clearing their throat, Tom turned his head and saw Penhall standing in the doorway, his arms filled with magazines, chocolates and various fruits. Understanding their need for privacy, Nurse Allman stood up and gave Tom a measured stare. “You really need to think about what you’re doing,” she instructed in a firm but gentle voice, “because this could affect you for the rest of your life.”
When she exited the room, Doug raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” Tom replied quietly and desperate to change the conversation, his eyes motioned towards the goodies in Doug’s arms. “Rob a convenience store did we?”
Doug smiled his lopsided smile and walking into the room, he dumped the supplies onto the bed. “I panicked.”
“No shit,” Tom murmured and as he felt the effects of the drug taking hold, he relaxed back against the pillow with a sigh and closed his eyes. “Thanks.”
Penhall’s eyes softened as he gazed down at Tom’s battered face. “You’re welcome buddy.”
**
Booker’s leg jigged nervously but inside he felt confident and in control. He knew what he had to do, he had to pay for his sins and there was only one man who could help him find redemption. But to find that man, he needed help and that was why he was sitting in the visitors’ room in the local county jail, waiting to see the monster that had irreparably changed his life.
Mike Ferris walked into the room wearing an orange jumpsuit and with his wrists handcuffed in front of him. He smirked when he noticed Dennis’ dilated pupils. “Tut, tut Officer Booker. It appears you’ve developed a bit of a habit.”
Staring at Ferris, Booker felt none of the fear or loathing that he would have felt if he did not have copious amounts of cocaine coursing through his body. Leaning across the table, he spoke in a calm voice, “I need your help.”
Ferris’ thin lips curled at the edges. “Oh this is gonna be good.”
**
Opening his eyes, Tom was surprised to see Doug still sitting at his bedside. “What time is it?”
Penhall checked his watch. “A little after three in the afternoon. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Tom sighed as he struggled into a sitting position.
“Well that’s not surprising,” Doug replied. “You’ve got broken ribs and your body is covered in—”
“Okay Doug, I don’t need a blow by blow description,” Tom muttered irritably. “I know what happened to me.”
Penhall’s eyes filled with sadness. “Sorry,” he replied quietly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Exhaling heavily, Tom managed a small smile. “You didn’t. I’m just feeling crappy, that’s all and I don’t want to talk about what happened.”
Doug’s expression became apologetic. “Then you’re probably not going to like what I have to say. The doctor came in when you were asleep and he’s coming back to do a rape kit.”
Tom’s eyes darkened and he shook his head violently back and forth. “No way. I told that nurse, I’m not doing it.”
“What?” Doug exclaimed. “Tom you have to! You know better than anyone how important it is to—”
“I DON’T CARE!” Tom yelled and Doug recoiled in surprise. “I’M NOT DOING IT!”
Laying a hand on Tom’s arm, Doug attempted to calm his friend. “Okay buddy, okay,” he soothed, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Tears filled Tom’s eyes and he stifled a sob. “Don’t you understand? I just want to forget it ever happened.”
Penhall did understand but he was also desperate to catch the bastard who had hurt his beloved Tom and the only way they could do that was with DNA evidence. However, as a police officer, he had witnessed victims' reactions close up and he knew the way Tom was feeling was not an uncommon reaction, especially for men. Many chose not to report their rapes, effectively leaving the predator free to commit more crimes. He knew how stubborn Tom could be and if he did not want to do something, no one could talk him into it. It was a difficult situation because as much as he wanted the rapist caught, he had to respect his friend’s wishes and therefore, he made the decision not to push.
Smiling down at Tom’s pale face, he nodded his head. “Yeah I do and I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”
Tom let out a relieved sigh and gazing up at Doug, he chewed nervously on his lower lip. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Sure,” Doug replied cheerfully, grateful for the change of conversation. “What do you need?”
Tom’s dark eyes softened. “I want you to give Booker a message.”
**
Booker’s hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel of his Cadillac as he drove down the narrow road that led to a secluded cabin deep within the Angeles National Forest. Sweat beaded on his brow and he wished he had snorted a line before he had made the journey. He felt calmer when he was stoned and he was able to block out the memory of Tom’s high-pitched screams that continuously plagued his mind; screams that had him covering his ears and banging his head in anguish as he attempted to rid himself of the terrible sound that echoed in his brain. He needed to find peace, or he would eventually go mad with grief and so he had made a decision. The only way he knew how to rid himself of the screaming in his head was to atone and who better to wield the whip than Daddy.
Pulling up outside the rustic cabin, he felt a sense of calm wash over him and stepping out of the vehicle, he slammed the door closed and climbed the steps up to the narrow porch that ran the length of the small lodge. Before he had time to knock, the front door opened and Conan’s hulking frame loomed in the entrance way. “Baby doll,” he greeted and a wicked grin played over his lips. “What a surprise.”
**
Tom lay in his bed listening to the sounds of the hospital as the patients settled down for the night. Penhall had left an hour before with a sealed envelope in his hand, an envelope that contained a single piece of paper and on that piece of paper were written two words, I’m sorry.
When the doctor returned, he had defiantly refused to do a rape kit. The doctor had not taken the news well and had berated him to the point of being rude but when Tom remained resolute, he stormed from the room muttering obscenities under his breath. It was only then that a nurse had allowed him to shower and as he stood under the warm, soothing water, he had sobbed uncontrollably at the memory of the assault and rape. His slender body was a mass of red contusions and blood seeped from his damaged anus, trickling down his legs and mixing with the water before swirling down the drain and into L.A.’s sewerage system.
At the memory, a single tear trickled down his cheek and turning over, he stared out at the majestic oak tree illuminated by the streetlight outside his window. He felt responsible for Booker’s breakdown and he had no idea what insanity had made him utter the cataclysmic words, God you’re beautiful. It was mind blowing to think that three small words could have changed both their lives in such a dramatic way and he suddenly remembered a quote that had been taught to him by his mother, handle them carefully, for words have more power than atom bombs. His words had shattered his and Dennis' lives as effectively as a bomb dropped on a building. They had been blown apart both physically and emotionally because he had dared to express his feelings, his homosexual feelings, to a man who had only recently been the victim of several brutal rapes. That he could have been so stupid still stunned him but he knew he had only uttered those fateful words because he felt them so deeply, so profoundly within every fiber of his being. To him, Dennis was the most beautiful man he had ever met but he wished with all his heart that he had kept his thoughts to himself, because if he had, there would be no pain, there would be no misery and there would be no regrets.
Closing his eyes, he sobbed quietly into his pillow and prayed to a God he did not believe in for Dennis to find it within his heart to forgive him.
**
Penhall had driven to the Chapel in search of Booker but Fuller had advised him that he had not returned to work. He had then gone to Booker’s apartment but no one answered his frantic knocking and as he stood staring at the door, a cold shiver ran down his spine. It did not seem to be a coincidence that both Dennis and Tom had been raped within a few months of each other and he suddenly wondered if the same perpetrator had committed both crimes. If Maurice Keppler, aka Conan, had been stalking Booker, he would have also seen Tom and he might have decided that he was too beautiful to pass up. Although strictly heterosexual, Penhall could understand Tom’s allure. He was extremely pretty for a man, unusually so and it was not uncommon for beautiful women to fawn over him, all of them vying for his attention. However, even knowing this fact, he had never been jealous of Tom’s looks. Hanson never lapped up the attention, if anything, he seemed to shy away from it. Also, Tom was his best friend, he loved him like a brother and he knew in his heart that there was not a woman on the planet who could come between them. Their bond was too strong and he was certain it would last a lifetime.
With a heavy sigh, he slipped the sealed envelope under the door and turning away, he hurried down the long hallway towards the exit. He had a bad feeling in his gut and for his own peace of mind, he needed to discuss his fears with Fuller as quickly as possible.
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To Chase a Feather in the Wind