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Poor Tom	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1469 -:- 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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Filling out the visitation form, Booker felt nervous energy flowing through his body. He had an urgent need to see his friend but he was terrified of what he would witness when he finally walked into the visiting area. He knew nothing of Tom’s recovery except from the snippets he had gleaned whilst eavesdropping at The Chapel. He dismissed most of the stories as supposition, just nasty gossip from those who did not really know Hanson. But there was one rumor that disturbed Booker and that was that Tom had tried to commit suicide for a second time whilst in Brentwood. If Hanson was receiving help for his depression and still trying to end his life, Dennis knew that the situation was desperate and Tom had a long road ahead of him before he would ever be able to lead a normal life again.
Handing in his form to the administration nurse, Dennis waited for a security officer to escort him through the secure facility to what the staff called The Day Room. Prior to entering Brentwood, he had passed through a metal detector and the guard had asked him to remove his belt. He had read the literature that had accompanied the visitation form, advising him on the strict rules within the center. At no time was he to pass any sharp objects to a patient, nor was he to raise his voice or cause any undue stress by asking questions about an inmate’s treatment unless the patient himself brought up the subject. If Tom showed any signs of anxiety, the visit would end immediately and security would ask Booker to leave. But if everything went smoothly, Dennis would be able to spend an hour with Hanson under the watchful eye of several psychiatric nurses.
A loud buzz signaled the secure metal gate opening and a tall, thin male guard entered the waiting room. “Dennis Booker to visit Thomas Hanson,” the man announced in a loud voice.
Standing up Booker wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before stepping forward. The guard told him to lift his arms and he quickly patted him down. “You’ve read Brentwood’s regulations leaflet?” he asked in a deep voice that did not match his slender frame.
Dennis nodded. “Yeah, um, I’m a cop so I know—”
“You don’t know shit ‘til you’ve seen what can happen if you break the rules,” the officer replied bluntly. “You don’t wanna see an inmate having a breakdown, it’ll scare the crap outta you.”
Booker felt sweat trickle down his spine. Suddenly, he did not feel prepared to see Hanson. He wished he had taken his time before rushing in without knowing exactly what he was about to be faced with. But when he had received the call to tell him that Hanson wanted to see him, his heart had completely overridden his head. He had always been impulsive and once again, his impatience had put him in a situation that he could not back away from, no matter how unnerved he felt. He was committed to visiting Hanson and now that he was there, he had to see it through.
“Are you coming?” the guard asked irritably. “I haven’t got all day.”
“Let’s go,’ Booker replied steadily, hoping his shaky hands did not reveal his nervousness. The metal gate buzzed open and he followed the officer down a long corridor. The air smelt strongly of disinfectant and Dennis felt his stomach churn. They passed through another locked gate and down several more hallways before the officer stopped in front of a third, smaller locked gate that was the doorway leading into a large airy room.
“End of the road,” the man stated as he unlocked the door with a key hanging from his belt. “There’s plenty of trained staff keeping watch so there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.”
Swallowing down his fear, Dennis walked through the open door. He jumped slightly when it clanged shut behind him. A middle-aged woman dressed in a nurse's uniform scurried over carrying a clipboard. “Name?” she asked officially.
Booker cleared his throat. “Dennis Booker, I’m here to see—”
“Thomas Hanson,” the nurse replied, as she nodded towards the large grated window. “He’s over there. “ Sensing Booker’s apprehension, her tone softened. “You’ll be fine. Tom’s come a long way since he’s been with us. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Looking over to where the nurse had indicated, Dennis saw a thin figure sitting on a broad window ledge, staring out into the garden below. His bandaged arms hugged his drawn up legs and his chin rested on his knees. Booker quickly blinked back tears when he realized he was looking at Hanson. He could not believe how much weight Tom had lost. Although he had always been slight in stature, Hanson looked tiny to Dennis, as though he had not been eating properly.
Taking a deep, calming breath, he walked slowly towards the ghostly figure sitting by the window. He stopped a few feet away and waited for a couple of moments, expecting Hanson to look around. When he received no indication that Tom was even aware that he was there, he cleared his throat before speaking. “Hey Tommy."
Turning his head slowly, Tom stared at Booker before giving him a slow smile. “Hey Dennis, thanks for coming.”
Although shocked at how pale and gaunt Hanson’s face was, Booker returned the smile. “I’ve been waiting for the call for weeks.” Moving forward, he perched on the window ledge. “Are you doing okay?”
Tom gazed out of the window for a moment before replying. “You know, up and down but they tell me I’m getting better. They’re looking at releasing me in few weeks.”
“That’s great!” Booker exclaimed over-enthusiastically. Feeling foolish at his excited outburst, Booker grinned self-consciously. “Sorry, that was a little over the top. I just meant that I’m happy that you’ve made such good progress.”
Hanson slowly lifted his arms, revealing splints to keep movement to a minimum. “Yeah well, I’ve still got a long way to go. They tell me I’ve damaged the tendons in my arms and I might never have full use of my hands again.”
Gulping down a sob, Booker tried to maintain his composure. “Oh Tommy,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Tom’s gaze traveled back to the garden below. “Not your fault,” he murmured softly.
Booker did not reply. He still felt completely responsible for Tom’s condition, he should have known better than to leave someone who was obviously depressed, alone for eight hours. But berating himself did not help Hanson. He needed to right his wrongs by giving Tom whatever it was he needed to make a full recovery. Reaching out, he took hold of Tom’s hand and gently squeezed his fingers. “So, you must be looking forward to going home. Are you going to your mom’s or—”
Slowly drawing his hand out of Booker’s grasp, Hanson shook his head, as he continued to stare out of the dirty window. “She’s not too happy with me, you know, suicide’s a sin and she’s very religious.”
“Oh,” Booker replied, unable to think of anything comforting to say. Minutes ticked by and an uneasy silence stretched out between them until Dennis suddenly spoke up. “Damn it Hanson, I’m treading on eggshells here because they told me not to upset you! But there are things I want to say, things I need to say. I want you to come back and live with me. I want you as my friend and I want to help you in any way I can.”
Turning his head slowly, Tom gazed deep into Booker’s eyes. “Is that ‘cause you’ve got a crush on me?” he asked quietly.
A hot red flush of embarrassment crept up Dennis’ face. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Did Penhall tell you?”
Tom nodded. “We’ve been speaking on the phone the last few days as part of my therapy. He warned me that you would try and take advantage of me for your own needs.”
Tears of humiliation and sadness pricked at Dennis’ eyes. “Is that why you wanted to see me? To tell me you don’t want me around anymore?”
Smiling slightly, Hanson shook his head. “No Booker, I still want you around. You were the only one who knew something was wrong when I came out of Riverbend and you were the only one to check up on me. I owe you a lot.”
“No you don’t,” Booker replied softly. “I let you down.”
“Don’t say that,” Tom murmured. “You’ve done a lot for me. I just need to know if you liking me as more than a friend is gonna be difficult for you. ‘Cause if it is, I’ll need to find somewhere else to live when I get released. They don’t want me living on my own, at least not yet but if you really are happy for me to come—”
“Yes!” Booker exclaimed happily before shaking his head in confusion. “I mean no! I mean… no, it isn’t a problem, I’m happy just to be friends and yes, I really do want you to come live with me again.”
“Good,” Tom smiled wearily. “I think they’ll ask you to attend some therapy sessions, just so you know—”
“Whatever it takes,” Dennis interrupted. “I just want you to be well again Tommy.”
“Okay,” Hanson replied, his smile finally crinkling his eyes. “I guess we have a plan.”
“I guess we do,” Booker replied happily. Gazing at his friend, Dennis suddenly felt that in time, everything was going to be all right.
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- 13
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Poor Tom